Dark Sun Rising: Season Three
by peppermint quartz
Summary: It's senior year in Sunnydale High - and it's time to graduate. The Scooby Gang faces their very worst fear thus far: surviving High School
1. Captain

**Nothing in Bleach or Buffy belongs to me. Darn it.**

**Author's Recap:**

**- Last we saw, Buffy came out to her mom and Joyce Summers freaked. We wonder why; it's not like Buffy told her she was a lesbian or something. That would happen much, _much_ later in the series (check the comics).**

**- Angelus got his soul back and turned into Angel, just in time to be shish-kebabed by Buffy and get sucked by some bad-special-effect-style vortex into presumably hell. Which has nothing but elevator muzal played on an endless loop and secondhand car commercials on every screen for _all freaking eternity_. One might argue that Angel deserves it, seeing how he likes Barry Manilow, but there's evil and there's _Evil_. No one deserves elevator muzak.**

**- Buffy decides that, hey, boyfriend getting sucked into hell kinda sucked, so she flees her life in Sunnydale to gods-know-where, and leaves the rest of her friends hanging. **

**- Ichigo was caught again by the Family, as he really likes the décor and Shuuhei is so darn handsome. Or perhaps he really likes being incapaciatated and made helpless, but that's a valid lifestyle choice.**

**- Freaked by the prospect that Ichigo might just become a munchable for the Family, Urahara trades his integrity for Ichigo's life, and Gin gets desouled, and we get non-emo Gin back in all his creepy homicidal glory.**

**- After all that, Ulquiorra gets a hand from Urahara. No, really. Plus the arm that was attached to it, but let's not quibble.**

**- The Family gets Hinamori Momo and engages in some educational fun. Just because they're vampires doesn't mean they don't learn about history or don't spend some quality torture time together.**

**On to the Third and Final season!**

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**Captain**

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Aizen dictated and Nanao typed. The only sound in the entire house were that of the keys on the keyboard, and the occasional turn of the page.

"That's all," said Aizen quietly and looked up.

Nanao saved the document and waited for the computer to print out a copy. "It's remarkably brief, isn't it?"

"Brief is good," said Ichimaru, ensconced in the corner, his head resting on Kira's thighs. The silver-haired vampire nuzzled into Kira's soft cotton pajama bottoms. "Let's have a hearing then."

"It's brief, but nowhere near as poetic as it's meant to be." Aizen took the paper and adjusted his glasses. "But of course it is exactly as cryptic as all such things are."

The rest of the family sat up a little straighter except for Gin, who curled more tightly into his comfortable seat.

Aizen didn't bother clearing his throat but he did put on a pair of glasses before he recited:

_"The end times come; rise the dark suns._

_The new gods come to devour the innocent._

_The dragon ascends and the dark moon also;_

_From them shall be a new world dawning in darkness;_

_The right seat of God claimed by the one true son of Hell."_

"That's it," said Aizen, folding the paper neatly and handing it to Nanao. "It makes little sense right now."

"I'm sure we'll be able to see more of it as we approach the end times," said Gin idly. He rolled his neck. "More importantly, where are we hunting tonight?"

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_Tokyo, Japan_

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Urahara strode through the rain-slicked streets. He knew that he was taking a big risk returning here, but he had to. The passers-by hurried along the sidewalks, few – if any – sparing him a second glance. This was Kyoto, after all, and staring was considered impolite.

Even if the man in question was a blond dressed in an impeccable suit and missing an arm.

When he reached the dingy shopfront, Urahara stopped. It still bore the name he gave it. The blond had to smile; it was designed purposefully to deter potential shoppers, but somehow there would always be the occasional curious teen or a drunk wandering in in the middle of the night. The shop windows were unwashed, and there was a 'CLOSED' sign on the door. There was even new graffiti on top of the old, faded one he had sprayed before.

He walked in without even knocking. The door squealed like a cat sliding down a board.

_Hell, it even smells like cats. They haven't got rid of the damn strays._

"I didn't think you'd ever return," drawled a lithe female way in the back. Yoruichi sauntered out with a kitten perched on her shoulder, a skinny black feline with wide golden eyes. It hissed at the intruder. "What happened to your arm?"

"How nice to have a warm welcome," Urahara replied. "Not even small talk."

"I don't do small talk," said Yoruichi, allowing the kitten to jump off. She stared at Urahara, one eyebrow raised.

The blond sighed. "Is he around?"

"You've checked in Tokyo before you came. You ought to know."

"Is he around at the moment?" amended Urahara. When Yoruichi got in that mood she was the most difficult person to deal with.

She jerked her head to the back. "Downstairs. Watch your step; we've blown the light again."

"You really should have a contractor step in to renovate."

"And how do we explain the array of weaponry and military-grade fittings?"

"You don't. Just hint that you are yakuza or something." Glancing at the forbidding expression of his former friend, Urahara sighed again. "Right. No friendly quips."

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The harsh lighting below reminded Urahara of military institutions. Locked rooms, one after the other, held arcane spellbooks, deadly weapons, of mythical artifacts, some of which he had contributed after myriad battles. He also knew that he would never be able to access them again.

Yoruichi paused before a door. "So. What happened to your arm?"

"I lost it," said Urahara simply.

The woman stared at him a little longer than was comfortable, smacked his hat off his head, and strode off. The black kitten that she had had on her shoulder earlier now wandered up to the blond visitor and stared up at him with the same knowing gaze of all felines.

Urahara matched the stare and murmured, "Here goes nothing."

_I can't believe I'm talking to a cat._

After a few raps on the door, it slid open to admit Urahara. Inside was a large metal desk cluttered with assorted books – leatherbound, hardback and paperback – three computer monitors, and a Nerf football. Jazz played in the background.

Urahara removed his hat and said, "Good afternoon, Hirako-san."

The lean, blond man in the chair sat back, folded his arms over his chest and smiled. "Hello, traitor."

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_Sunnydale, California_

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A rough, ragged hand clawed through the earth. Following the hand was the rest of the body, wrapped in a dirt-encrusted suit, and the newborn vampire snarled as it sensed someone towering over its grave.

Willow smiled downwards. "Come and get it, big boy."

The vampire matched the smile and leaped upwards. Someone pulled Willow aside and the vampire was left sprawling. Before Xander – the someone who pulled Willow to safety – could stake the newborn vamp, it clambered over the dirt and raced for the asphalt. Oz tried to trip it but the vampire leaped over the outstretched leg.

"He's getting away!" cried Willow.

Nonplussed, Oz took aim with his stake and threw it overarm. It sailed straight and true until it hit the vampire's back – and bounced off harmlessly.

"Ichigo!" Xander yelled. The redhead emerged from the mausoleum nearest the exit with a long sword in hand.

"Got it," said Ichigo and beheaded it.

Willow, Oz and Xander jogged up. "Thank goodness one of us has actual slaying skills," said Xander.

Willow huffed. "We don't do too badly. Usually. That was Andy Garten and he was in the gym squad."

"That would explain his agility," said Oz placidly.

Ichigo shrugged. "Agility versus cutting power. I'll go with the sword anytime."

"I thought yours was still with that creepy Japanese vampire family." Xander dusted off the seat of his jeans. "Where did you get that?"

"It's Urahara's. He loaned it to me while he's in Tokyo. This," said the redhead, hefting Benihime gingerly, "isn't the easiest thing to get through customs. And just now... did I actually hear 'Come and get it, big boy'?"

Willow pouted defensively. "You try thinking of a witty saying each time!"

"You know, I knew we appreciated Buffy's slaying skills, but in a way I feel we took her punning skills for granted." Xander's comment made Willow stop in her tracks.

Oz looked over. "What's wrong?"

"Xander, past tense rule."

Xander hastily backpedaled. "I meant that we have been taking it for granted and we will not once she's back."

"Do you think she knows it's the first day of school tomorrow?" asked Ichigo.

"I'm sure she does," said Willow, though her tone was rather dubious. The four of them walked out of the Shady Hills Graveyard, each trying not to articulate the thought. But Ichigo could not help hearing a snide voice in his head:

_Even if she does know, does she care?_

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_Tokyo, Japan_

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"So, what brings you to the wacky side of the world?" asked Hirako Shinji. His blond page boy's hairdo seemed rather immature and silly, but when you met his gaze you saw a battle-hardened veteran, for all that he was thirty-two years old only. "And how's the kidnap victim?"

"He was here for practically the whole of last summer, so don't give me that bullshit about me abducting him," said Urahara, dropping into a seat. "I followed him. And now I came here to ask a favor."

Shinji smiled very thinly. "You have nothing to ask a favor with, Lefty. There is nothing you can repay me with."

"Even information about the legendary Silverblue Army?"

Now he had the man's full attention. "Talk."

"I want a functioning right arm, not the crappy prosthetic that the hospital fixed me up with." Urahara opened with his request. "I don't care how many spells you throw at it, but I need to be able to work fully in order to protect Ichigo."

Shinji shrugged. "I'm sure we can get something done down at R&D. Tessai's quite handy. He's probably the only one in your old crew not too pissed at you to help." He narrowed his eyes. "Talk to me about the Silverblue Army. Are they still around?"

"They're in Sunnydale now."

There was a pregnant pause. Shinji cocked his head and spun a slender black pen in his fingers. Urahara waited calmly.

The blond man slammed the pen down suddenly. To his credit, Urahara did not jump in shock. Shinji hissed, "They decimated the Shinigami, and you're telling me that they're in Sunnydale?"

"Not just the two of them," clarified the teacher. "They've their family with them."

Shinji scoffed. "That I know. Renji told me about Rukia's death."

"Where is he? And Byakuya?"

"Byakuya's off in Nepal or Tibet or Bhutan right now; can't get a bead on his exact location. Renji's off in Macau with Ikkaku, drinking to death his liver or something." Shinji sat back in his chair. "Rukia's death hit 'em hard."

Urahara shook his head. "We need to take down the family piece by piece or we'll never get to the core two."

"Tell me about it." Shinji pressed a digit on his phone and yelled, "KENSEI! Get yer chainsmoking arse in here right the motherfuckin' now!"

Urahara restrained the urge to roll his eyes at Shinji's coarseness. Though the slender blond male was one of the tactical geniuses within the shinigami and the most devious bridge player Urahara ever met, there was some unspoken competition between the two and Urahara would not put it past Shinji to create some personalized hassle.

In about two minutes Kensei slammed open the door and stalked in. His white hair and multiple piercings spoke of a lifestyle that generated unwanted attention and the trouble that went along with it, but his muscles more than backed up the man's argument that he would bloody well dress any which way he wanted. Today it was a black tank top with brilliant red pants.

"What the fuck you want?" he growled. Then he saw Urahrara. He scowled and lit a cigarette, before he raised a small salute. "Yo."

"Hello." Urahara nodded.

Kensei was the captain of another division, one that run the truckers' routes up and down the length of Japan. He and his division all had the number 'sixty-nine' tattooed somewhere on their bodies to represent the number of trucks plying the roads. They were usually the trackers that found out nests in the hills or deserted villages and alerted the rest of the shinigami.

"Urahara said Aizen and Ichimaru had a family," said Shinji, looking at Kensei. "I thought you'd like to hear it, since you're our resident expert on them."

"Aizen and Ichimaru are the two leaders, of course," said Urahara. "We all know that. There are two female vampires. This is someone they call Peaches; she's a strong magic user. I think this was Princess Hinamori Momo back when Aizen was posing as a poet-philosopher and had gathered followers about him. The other is this woman." Urahara pulled out a photograph showing the two females sipping drinks at the Bronze. As with all vampires, they did not photograph well, but the features were captured clearly enough. "She is a vicious fighter. An Ise Nanao; ring any bells?"

"Ise clan? They were bodyguards of the nobility since they were formed." Kensei blew out a stream of smoke. "It was rumored that Aizen seduced her first before turning the princess, but I doubt it."

"There is a blond male, who probably was a foreigner. They call him Kira." Another photo. Urahara slid it across the table. "He has some facility with magic, not very powerful, but very specialized. I couldn't figure it out back when I was an involuntary guest at their place."

"Involuntary?" Kensei raised his pierced left brow.

"And there was this guy. A bruiser, tattooed with that number, and seemed fiercely loyal. He also fights well – and looked really familiar."

"He should," growled Kensei, picking up the photograph that Urahara dug out of his pocket. "This was one of the shinigami trackers that ran the hill routes back a hundred years ago. There's a photograph or daguerreotype somewhere in the archives."

Shinji motioned for the picture to be shown to him. He frowned. "I can't place him though."

"He wasn't someone major." Kensei scowled even more fiercely. "Hisagi Shuuhei. He was a good hunter-tracker by all accounts. Heard they lost him one day when he never turned up for a slay in a village. Figured he was killed battlin'. Never thought he would have been turned."

Urahara exhaled slowly. "That would explain the fighting skills. He seemed rather familiar with shinigami style of combat."

Shinji packed the photographs together neatly. "That all?"

"I know where they stay." Urahara raised his stump. "I know they have a Panthera half-breed and a half-Schiffer Klaardis demon working with them."

Kensei looked intrigued. "A Schiffer? Is he as good as the legends say?"

"Let's just say I wouldn't want him armed with a sword when I have to face him." Urahara winced at the memory of how he lost his right arm. "In fact, I don't want to face him again. He can tap into his full Klaardis heritage, complete with wings."

"That bad, huh." Kensei was grinning now. "What didja do to piss him off that much? The Klaardis bloodline isn't something easy to rouse."

"Unimportant," commented Shinji. He pushed himself out of the chair. "What do you really want, Urahara Kisuke? Don't gimme that bullshit about prosthetics. You and me both know that you can easily come up with a new design and bolster it with spells. For once, you stupid blond freak of nature, be honest with me."

The mage met Shinji's clear gaze. He then breathed out slowly and spread his hands, the real and the non-existent. "Shinji, I need to be at a hundred percent. I feel the portents, I can taste the signs. He needs me to be there, and I need to function better than ever. Not as a cripple, Shinji. If I am to protect him, I must have something better than this plastic piece of crap."

"You're ashamed of yourself," stated Kensei calmly. His dark gray eyes were somber. "This isn't about protecting him, this is about you not feeling that you're good enough for him. You think that just 'cause you've lost an arm you ain't a complete warrior? You ain't a mage no more? You ain't a shinigami no more?" He leaned in, almost nose to nose with Urahara. "You ain't a man no more?"

Urahra felt his face turn pale with shame and anger. "This isn't about that."

"Then why did you leave him alone in Sunnydale?" asked Kensei, his voice still as even and quiet.

"He can take care of himself-"

"-then don't use him as an excuse to have us fix yer goddamn arm." The white-haired shinigami captain shoved Urahara's chair away and it crashed into the wall, tossing the mage out of it. "You're scared. That's all. Admit that you are scared about your missing arm, and we'll work from there. You came crawlin' back here for us to kiss and make it better, to tell you that everything will be okay, but you _owe_ us, Urahara. You took Ichigo away, without any explanation. You took him away and he was the center of the operation. You knew that! He is Tsukiyomi's avatar and he was to lead us next. What are we supposed to do now, Urahara? Abandon Japan and head to the Hellmouth?"

Urahara pushed himself to his feet with some difficulty. He glared at Shinji. "So he's your mouthpiece? Says all the things you wanna say to my face but can't because you wanna be cool or something?"

"Kensei speaks for the rest of the shinigami." Shinji tilted his head and regarded Urahara. "I speak for myself. We can help you, but on one condition."

"What condition?"

"When I die, Ichigo comes home." Shinji smiled again, his teeth brilliantly white, his expression strangely resembling a grinning skull's.

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_Sunnydale, California_

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Ulquiorra paced his room slowly. Every step was measured, deliberate, steady. His sword lay naked on the table alongside a black blade – that Kurosaki boy's sword. He stared at the weapons, his vivid green eyes examining the blades from hilt to tip and back. He imagined them sliding into pink flesh and out a rigid back, pinning the Kurosaki boy to the wall, hearing his screams, hearing his life ebb away.

Ulquiorra's fingers twitched. He yearned to get that Kurosaki boy again, to immobilize him so that he could drag Shirosaki out of him and back here into this plane, his poor Shirosaki right here with him, and never ever let him leave or be abused by those wretched, disgusting humans again. The pale demon shuddered and he forced his bloodlust down to a tolerable roar, and resumed pacing his room.

He could practically taste Kurosaki's blood right now. In the furthest corner of the room a discarded human limb had finally been removed of most of its flesh and now a noxious stench had permeated the space.

On the other side of the room was the wretched thing that once used to be Hinamori Momo. Ulquiorra and his bloody prize had been ordered to move in here to watch over the mutilated female vampire and to spare the rest the disgusting smell of rotten human flesh.

As for the vampires, Aizen had stopped coming in entirely; Gin visited every day, removing a piece of Hinamori's flesh every time he stopped by, the size varying according to his mood. Kira and Hisagi followed his lead, but it was Kira who took more pleasure in the torture. Nanao veered between wanting to stake her sire and wanting to prolong her pain; she came only once in a while, and always in the company of Hisagi.

Grimmjow had taken on another assassination job, got the blessing of Aizen and left to hunt his quarry somewhere in the frozen wastelands in the north.

Ulquiorra didn't care whether he was in this room or above. He barely cared about the sniveling, pathetic creature which could barely move or speak, though she still cried out whenever Gin performed his incisions. He kept flickering between forms: human Schiffer and demon Klaardis, trying to determine which was better for capturing and imprisoning Kurosaki Ichigo.

"Naa, are we back to the wings again?" Ichimaru Gin said as he strolled in, this time with his own blade shining in the firelight. He planted Shinsou on the coal fire carelessly and wandered up to Ulquiorra. "You'll be too big a target in this."

"What do you suggest then?" asked Ulquiorra curtly.

"Inconspicuous approach, daring retreat." Gin smiled and pinched Ulquiorra's cheek. If not for his seniority Ulquiorra would have torn that hand off too, and Gin knew that. "Look at you – so possessive and darling. I'm sure your lil' demon friend would love to be here to watch you worry over him."

Ulquiorra bristled and forced himself to calm down again. "When can I go?"

"You gotta wait till he's alone. He's always with his friends these days," said Gin.

"I can kill his friends."

"Their deaths or disappearances would raise an issue. Too many teen deaths at the same time would overload the population's selective amnesia."

Ulquiorra growled deep in his throat. Gin paid him no heed and picked up his sword, which he then cheerfully plunged into Hinamori Momo's throat.

"I got sick of her whining," Gin explained to Ulquiorra over the agonized burbling. Then the silver-haired vampire frowned and asked rhetorically, "Then again, if she doesn't scream, how would I know she's in pain?" He then twisted the blade sideways and, almost as an afterthought, decapitated her and ended her misery.

Ulquiorra watched and Gin kicked at the pile of dust that used to be Hinamori Momo. The vampire sniffed. "You really should get rid of that trophy arm," he complained. "What use is it to you now?"

"It reminds me that I have to find the remaining pieces," said Ulquiorra evenly.

"Ah. I see."

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_Somewhere in Los Angeles_

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"Hey girlie, another coffee 'ere," shouted a beefy man in a yellow cap. He leered at the blonde who walked over to pour him a refill. "Thanks sweetheart," he drawled, and slapped her butt.

The girl paused, almost looked around, and walked back to her station. The large man laughed raucously with his mates, sharing a lewd joke.

"Ignore the bastards. There's someone wanting to order there, Anne," said Fion, nodding at a lovey-dovey couple who had just taken a place. "Don't think they'll tip though."

The girl, Anne, glanced over and took an ordering pad from the counter. "Who does these days?"

The couple were cooing and laughing over an inside joke, but untangled themselves when Anne came over. The young man grinned almost shyly. "Hi. What can we get for, uh, two dollars and... seventy-five cents?"

"Cake and a coffee," said Anne.

"We can't have cake, we gotta stay healthy," chided the girl. She was rather pretty, with long blonde hair and full lips. She smiled at Anne. "Do you have some kinda fruit?"

Anne shrugged. "We have peach pie. Can't guarantee there's a peach in it."

"All right, then we'll have pie," said the boy.

The girl nuzzled the boy. "We shouldn't have spent all our money."

"It's worth it." The boy smiled at Anne again. "Look."

The couple stretched out a forearm each, both coming together to form a heart shape. The half on the girl's arm said 'Ricky' and the other on the boy's arm said 'Lily'.

"It's nice, isn't it?" continued the boy, presumably Ricky.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's nice and, uh, permanent."

Ricky kissed Lily on the cheek and gazed adoringly into her eyes. "Well, forever. Kinda the whole deal, you know?"

Lily giggled. Anne turned to place the order at the counter when Lily called out, "Do I know you?"

Anne shook her head. "I doubt it." When she got to the counter she passed the order chit to Fion. "Cover my table. I'm gonna take a short break out back."

"No problem," said Fion, reading the chit and slicing some pie for the couple.

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It was pandemonium at Sunnydale High. Or at least it seemed that way to all the teachers when students threaded their way past gaggles and crowds that clustered at restrooms and drinking fountains; some walked while yelling at the top of their voices, others walked backwards and yet somehow navigating the crowd, and all adults stayed in the sanctuary of their classrooms.

"So, how was the evening at the cemetery?" asked Giles, relying on Xander to part the milling crowd and following close behind with Willow. Ichigo brought up the rear.

"Pretty okay. Ichigo killed the vamp," asked Willow.

"Well that's good. I'm glad you're all trying to keep down the vampire population in town, but I would take it slightly amiss should any of you be hurt in the attempt before Buffy gets back."

Willow smiled. "You'd be cranky?"

"Exactly." Having navigated safely to the library, Giles pushed into his workspace and was immediately swamped by students and faculty wanting to borrow books.

Having fought for his texts out of the teeming crowd, Xander leaned against the counter. "How's my hair?"

"It looks fine," said Ichigo, not looking at him.

"I'm psyched. It's the first time I'm seeing Cordelia after the summer and, well, not to get too geeky or anything but, whoo, watch out for sparks, y'know what I mean?" Xander couldn't hold back his grin. Then he ran his hand over his hair again. "Okay getting a little too geeky now. How's my hair?"

Ichigo replied again, "Still fine."

"All right then." Xander dashed off.

Willow took some volumes from Giles and rejoined Ichigo, passing him some of his. As they pushed out of the library, they saw a familiar face headed their way. Willow brightened and Ichigo wagged his fingers in greeting.

"Hi Oz."

"Hey."

"Hey!" chirruped the redheaded girl. "You came to see me! You came with books? Are they books for me?"

"Uh, it's kinda a funny story," said Oz as the three of them turned to move down the hallway, neatly avoiding a running schoolmate. "Remember when I didn't graduate?"

"Yeah," said Ichigo. "You had all those incompletes."

"But that's what summer school is for," said Willow.

Oz half-shrugged. "Well, remember when I didn't go?"

"Ichigo!" Cordelia hurried up. "Hey Willow, Oz. Have you guys seen Xander?"

"Yes, he's about somewhere," replied Ichigo. Willow and Oz stepped aside a little, still negotiating the issue of Oz repeating senior year.

Cordelia fanned herself a moment. "I'm really excited. How was your summer?"

"I spent it helping Urahara with his prosthetic right arm."

"Great! Did Xander meet anyone new?" The brunette was obviously not listening; her dark eyes scanning the students milling about the lounge. "What am I saying? Who is he likely to meet, here in Sunnydale besides monsters and stuff? But then, he's always been attracted to monsters and stuff..."

Cordelia trailed off. Ichigo caught Oz saying, "... so 'cute' is out of the picture?"

"Well, traditionally academic failure isn't a big turn-on..."

Cordelia spoke again. "Did he forget about me?" Before Ichigo could reply, she smiled in an anticipatory way. "Well, I'll just have to make him remember."

She walked off and then darted back.

"Your hair is fine." Ichgio gave her thumbs up.

Continuing his conversation with Willow, Oz remarked, "I'm willing to bargain down to 'eccentric' with an eye on 'quirky'."

"We'll need to work on that," Willow told him seriously. Back to Ichigo, she asked, "Is Urahara coming back today?"

The Japanese boy shook his head. "He's got a week before he gets back. I hope he's all right though."

"I'm sure he is," Oz reassured.

Across the lounge, Xander caught up to Cordelia. The boy waved and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Hey."

"Hi," said Cordelia. They looked at each other and Cordelia nibbled her lower lip. "So, how was your summer?"

"It was okay," said Xander. They stared at each other some more. Then the boy waved again. "Okay. See ya around."

"Yeah, bye," replied Cordelia.

The two separated to head to class, but neither seemed satisfied with the exchange.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Aizen threaded his hand into Gin's hair. It clung to the blood on his skin and tainted the silver strands. Then the fingers dug in and gripped.

"I did not tell you to kill Momo, Kitsune," crooned Aizen. The fingers tightened further. "How dare you?"

Gin's teeth were bared and he hissed. He could not see; the blindfold was thick enough and his hands, bound behind him, were clenched tightly. His sire slammed Gin into the carpeted floor and aimed a well-placed kick at his midsection. Gin whimpered softly and snarled again.

"She should die," Gin rasped. "One whole summer failed to give us any more information. Why should I keep her alive?"

"You should have waited for my command," snapped Aizen. "She was mine, Gin. I had the right." He ripped off Gin's blindfold and pressed his mouth over his lover's. "I would have wanted to watch. I would have wanted to be the one to slay her for hurting you, Kitsune. You should've known better."

Gin licked his bottom lip. It was bleeding. "Maybe I do."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Boy I'm glad we showed up for 'depressing night'," Xander quipped, supine on the couch.

Willow, curled up in a chair nearby, stirred her drink morosely. Oz was not there yet; he had band practice and would be late. She sighed. "I wonder what she's doing now."

"Oh I know what she's doing," said Xander bitterly. "She's gabbing to all her friends about her passionate affair with Pedro the cabana boy and laughing about me thinking she might still care about me." He caught Willow's look. "It's possible you were talking about Buffy."

"It's possible."

Ichigo sauntered over and pulled Xander's feet off so he could sit. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just the shell of my life," Xander drawled.

"Depressing band, huh." Ichigo sipped his mocha. "And we're not doing well in the vamp department either. They're all scattered and it's hard tracking them properly."

At this moment a group of girls, carefully dressed to impress, walked into the Bronze and made sure they had everyone's attention. Cordelia basked in the spotlight as the jocks grinned at her and the girls ranged themselves carefully to make sure no one was obstructed in their view of Cordelia's dress.

"Well, I think I have a solution," said Xander.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Have a Slayer?"

"Next best thing." The dark-haired teenager narrowed his gaze. "Bait."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

_Narita International Airport_

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

At the airport, Urahara kept touching his right arm. It almost felt as if he had not lost it to Ulquiorra. Now that was a problem lurking for a solution, which he did not have. _Ichigo would be at home right about now... _He had called the night before and lied about when he was returning, since he wasn't sure how long it would take for Tessai to engineer the prosthetic.

"It's gonna take time for that to be used to you," said Shinji, tapping the join where the new arm met the old stump. "Be gentle. Don't think you can start with swinging Benihime about within the first month."

"When will I know?" asked Urahara.

"You'll know," Shinji said. He put on his newsboy cap. "And remember to tell Ichigo about the deal."

The physics teacher looked up from his right hand – still mechanical, but somehow so much _more –_ and saw that Shinji was serious. The current leader of the shinigami placed his arm deliberately over the mage's shoulders and pulled him close, looking to all the world as if he was hugging the man, but only Urahara knew it for the threat it was. He could feel Shinji's grip tightening fractionally and the power that radiated off the head of the shinigami.

"I gave you what you wanted. You better damn well carry through on your promise."

"You aren't dying anytime soon, I hope," muttered Urahara.

The thinner man smirked. "Not that one. The _other_ promise."

"What other promise?"

"The part where you're gonna protect him with your new arm. The part where he doesn't fuckin' die before his time." Shinji let go. "The others, they're just sore. Ichigo is their purpose, man. The fact that the boy exists gives them hope and a direction. Gives them something to protect. You took that away. That's why they're angry. Me? I see this as an internship he's having with ya on the Hellmouth."

Urahara picked up his luggage. It was lighter than he anticipated. "You're not angry."

"Don't be fooled. I'm spittin' with rage, man," remarked Shinji, his grin wide. He softened and stuck his hands in his pockets. "You're a traitor, but you aren't stupid. Teach the kid. Someday Ichigo will have to come back, and he will have to lead them."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Hey."

Anne looked up from the counter she was wiping. It was the blonde girl who had got her arm tattooed with her boyfriend's name, Rose or some flower... Lily. That was her name. Anne returned to cleaning the counter. "Hey."

"You're Buffy, right? You were the one who saved us from the vampires the last time?"

"That was a long time ago," said Anne, resolutely refusing to acknowledge her name. It had been less than a year, to be honest, but Anne remembered how her former friend, Billy Fordham, had tried to trap her in a bomb shelter with vampire wannabes, waiting for actual vampires to arrive and slaughter them all. If not for some quick thinking and a stroke of luck, she would have died.

Lily had been one of the vampire worshipers. It took her only one encounter with a real bloodsucker to change her views entirely, it seemed, but she was still as pale as before. She was wringing her hands now.

She waited until Anne paused in her wiping. "Did you see Ricky?" she asked, a tone of fear entering her voice.

"No. He hasn't come by."

"He's never left me alone for this long before," Lily said worriedly. "Can you – can you help me to find him? That's what you do, right? You help people?"

Anne wanted to tell the other girl to leave, to go find other people for help, but she sighed and said, "I can't leave until the end of my shift. If you can wait until eleven..."

"I'll wait," answered Lily eagerly. She found herself a seat in a corner and curled up, defensive and vulnerable all at once.

Anne shook her head. This was going to be more troublesome than she had wanted, but she could not just leave the obviously distressed girl all by herself.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Cordelia's complaints would only attract the stupid vamps, thought Xander irritatedly. Still one vamp staked was one vamp gone, so that could be an upside. He rolled his shoulders and felt the bones creak; he hadn't been sleeping well at all since he got back to his real body, and he knew he kept waking up at the slightest disturbance in fear of what might have come for him.

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

That scream shook Ichigo out of his musings. The redhead ran out of his hiding spot and found a vampire trying to snack on Willow, while Oz tried to drag the monster off his girlfriend. Xander managed to get in a good kick before he was smacked away, while Cordelia attempts to pull the vampire aside got her thrown aside onto Xander.

"Oz, stake!" yelled Ichigo. The vampire was too close to Willow's neck for Ichigo to use Benihime.

The werewolf tossed a stake to Ichigo and the redhead staked the bloodsucker. Oz hauled Willow to her feet.

"You all right?" asked Oz. Willow nodded, eyes wide and almost tearful.

Ichigo pocketed the stake and breathed out. "That was a little close."

"Yeah," agreed Oz, still holding the red-haired girl. "I vote heading home."

"Agreed." Ichigo looked around and then rolled his eyes. "Cordy, Xander, we're still here."

The two broke apart for air, lips pink from their kiss. Cordelia blushed lightly and pushed herself off Xander, and then the dark-haired boy got to his feet. The two linked hands and smiled in embarrassment.

"Sorry," said Xander, though everyone could tell he was not sorry at all.

Oz tucked Willow closer to himself. "Let's go. I'll drive."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Anne drifted out of unconsciousness. She almost wished she had not followed Lily, but if there were demons then maybe she should be here. Lily was in the same room – same cell – dressed in that drab sack and her face hollow.

Empty of hope.

"I always knew I'd come here," she whispered. Her thousand-yard-stare was beginning to unnerve Anne.

"Come here?" the other blonde girl repeated, gingerly rubbing the spot where she was hit.

Lily looked at Anne. "Hell."

They had been looking for Lily when that guy from the shelter – Ken – told them that Ricky was with him. He had seemed nice enough but there was something off about him. The two girls only found out how off he was when they came to the 'cleansing pool', an inter-dimensional gateway to a demonic world. Ken's face came off and showed the true demon beneath. Anne had been taken by surprise when Ken hit her across the head with a heavy iron something.

Now they were in a cell. Anne glanced about her. There was a skeleton on the bunk beside her and the space was half the size of her tiny apartment kitchen. She straightened and then climbed to her feet and said, "This isn't hell."

"No?" Ken emerged and grinned at them. His fangs glistened in the firelight. "What is hell, but an absence of hope?"

"You did this," said Anne. "You took kids and threw them in here. What did you do to them, huh, Ken? Sucked the youth outta kids?"

"I gave them purpose," said Ken. "They come and work for years until there's no strength left in them. That's a better use of their lives than whatever they were doing with it."

Lily shrank back. "Years?"

"Yeah, years." Ken looked smug.

"But Ricky...?"

The demon tapped his chin. "Oh right, Ricky... yeah. You're Lily, right? He remembered your name far longer than he did his own. But we got it outta him in the end. Down here, you're no one."

"We have names," snapped Anne.

"Right," Ken drawled. "As if they're real names. _Anne_. I know you and your type. So anxious to run away from whatever problems you faced. Trying to disappear. Well guess what? You got your wish. You've disappeared – and no one's gonna miss you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ulquiorra set himself down carefully on the roof. Every night he came, wanting to go in, knowing that Shirosaki had yet to recover from the shock of being shot. He could hear the young redhead who held Shirosaki in him moving about the house; he could not breach the wards put about it by the mage and his friends, but he was able to stay here.

Aizen had told him to wait. And since Ulquiorra's loyalty belonged to that vampire, he would wait.

But only until he could bring Shirosaki forth again. By that time, all bets were off.

Ulquiorra listened, his eyes closed, remembering.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Anne was still breathing heavily as she recovered from the head trauma. The guards, all demons like Ken, had thick body armor but there were a few weak points. Also, she had seen a number of sharp, pointy things.

She knew how to use sharp, pointy things.

There were about a dozen young people with her, all dressed in drab tunics. Lily was beside her, shaking with fear, and there was one guard pacing in front of the dozen. Anne seethed but kept a tight lid on her temper.

"In this place, you will work. You will not speak, you will not think, you will not rest. You exist to work. Down here, you are no one. You are merely workers." He paused in front of the first boy in the line. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Andrew?"

The blow came so fast Anne doubted Andrew even saw it coming. The demon had smashed in the boy's head and the body crumpled to the floor in a mess of blood. The others were taken aback, but they took the lesson. When the guard came to the second person in line and asked again, the girl replied softly, "I'm no one."

"What's your name?" the guard asked again, and Lily had to gasp a breath before she repeated the correct answer.

The demon stood before Anne, who was looking at her feet. He growled, a low threatening note in the back of his throat. "What's your name?"

The blonde girl took a breath. Then she looked up and smiled brightly. "Hi! I'm Buffy, the vampire slayer and you are?"

Roaring, the demon guard swung the club it had used to beat in Andrew's brains but Buffy ducked into his swing and punched him up the jaw, breaking it. The demon screamed and Buffy snapped his neck. She caught hold of the club before it fell to the floor.

"Anyone who's not having fun," she said, glancing about her, "follow me."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo could sense the half-demon perched on top of the roof. More than anything he wanted to kill it for having torn off Urahara's arm, but inside him Shirosaki was tearing to get out of the house to get to the half-breed.

Thank God Urahara placed wards about the entire complex. All Ulquiorra could do was stay atop the apartment block like some demented, homicidal gargoyle. Every morning, Giles picked Ichigo up and while Ichigo knew they could not defeat Ulquiorra in battle, having to deal with more than one foe was enough deterrent. Or so the redheaded teen told himself.

It was difficult to get to sleep. Now that Shirosaki and he were enemies and the demon within was no longer upholding his side of the bargain, the full memories of Kyoto flooded Ichigo's mind. Ichigo knew that, had he been a year younger, had he not witnessed Theo being eaten alive, the horrors of what he did when he was under Ichimaru's control would kill him or drive him mad.

"As if that's not happening now," Ichigo muttered when he saw himself in the mirror. Dark circles ringed his eyes and he was much thinner than before. He could even see his collarbones protruding.

Urahara would be worried, and the blond teacher would fret.

Ichigo took a deep breath and tried to smile at his reflection. It did nothing to help him look healthier. Slowly tipping his head forward until his brow touched the mirror's cool surface, Ichigo wondered how long it would take before he totally and utterly lost it.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy ran, ducking and dodging the various pillars and trolleys. The humans who were there barely paid her any attention; they had been there too long, their spirit beaten out of them for months, perhaps even years.

The Slayer leaped onto a platform in the middle of the enormous construct. A couple of demon guards tried to fight her but she took them down, ripping their weapons from them and using them to kill the guards.

Ken was apoplectic with rage. "KILL HER!" he kept bellowing, as if the demons were not trying already.

Suddenly the guards fell back, wary. Buffy followed their gaze and saw Ken gripping Lily by the neck.

"Drop your weapon," he hissed. Buffy snarled, but did so anyway. Ken released Lily and pointed to Buffy. "You have guts. I'm gonna rip you open and play with them. How dare you fight back? You're not supposed to fight back!"

"Yeah, but it was fun," quipped Buffy. She could feel her old confidence brimming wildly and it surged when Lily – very timidly – shoved Ken off his pompous ranting ledge. The demons that had flanked her were caught off guard and Buffy didn't waste time fleeing. Clambering up to the ledge, she caught up with the other ten who had got to the iron gates that separated them from their freedom.

It was far too heavy for them to lift. Buffy grappled with the cold metal and started lifting them. "Okay," she grunted as the teens scrambled through the opening below, "this works the glutes, the back, the bi-biceps..."

Lily was the last one to go across and once the blonde girl was clear, Buffy herself navigated her way under the gate very carefully, keeping the weight up.

"Watch out!" Lily screamed.

Buffy barely had time to react as Ken barreled into her and shoved her from the gate. Then he shrieked.

The Slayer edged back, breathing heavily, and stood up. She saw what had happened: Ken's calves were pinned by the spiky iron gate. She licked her dry lips and smiled. "Hey Ken. Wanna see my impression of Gandhi?"

Ken looked up. "You-you've ruined..."

Buffy grabbed the club Ken had been holding and swung it flat onto his skull, shutting him up once and for all.

Lily came up. "Gandhi?" she asked weakly.

Buffy tossed the club down. "You know, if he was really pissed off."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"I need to talk," Ichigo said into the phone. "I need... I need someone who's not Urahara to listen. And – I understand if you don't want to – I think I trust you the most."

"Should I come over?" Giles asked, cradling the receiver with his shoulder and putting the teacup down. He had seldom, if ever, heard such a vulnerable tone from the redheaded teen.

"Um, that'll be nice. But be careful. That thing's still up there on the roof."

The Watcher chuckled drily. "If he hasn't made a move I doubt he'll start now. I will be there as soon as I can."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Urahara leaned his head against the window. Outside it was dark; he could see moonlight reflected off the wing but the narrow aperture made it impossible for him to see the moon itself. He hoped Ichigo was fine.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo held the mug between his hands and let its warmth seep into his skin. "I haven't been completely honest with everyone."

Giles sipped his tea. He knew the boy was taking a lot on himself to open up now and as the mature adult he would respect that openness.

"I haven't been honest because I don't know what the repercussions would be," continued the teenager. "When I came, I thought I would alone with Urahara but... but I found friends again. And over the past couple of years I realize how much you all mean to me."

"I'm sure they'll say the same of you too, Ichigo," reassured Giles.

"Not if they knew what I did in Kyoto." The dark gaze that met Giles' eyes was haunted and hollow. "Giles, I remember everything now. And I think you'll be the better judge out of the two of us whether I ought to remain in contact with Willow and Xander and the rest."

Giles frowned slightly and settled in his chair.

"When I was in Kyoto, I did a lot of horrible things," said Ichigo quietly. He swallowed. "I was... I thought that as the avatar of Tsukiyomi I could defeat the most powerful vamps Japan had ever known and I recklessly entered the town they held in their sway. They caught me and put me under a spell. They could control my motions, made me do whatever they wanted me to do."

"They made you a puppet."

"Yes. They made me..." Ichigo was looking at his hands now, his breath shallow and somehow hoarse, "they made me watch my sisters kill our parents. They turned my beautiful little sisters into vamps and their first meal was my parents."

Giles covered his mouth. This was torture that sounded a lot like Angelus's style. He made no other motion as Ichigo struggled to continue.

"I not only watched them... I applauded them and..." the young man stuttered and when he glanced up Giles was not surprised to see tears streaking his cheeks. "Later, they made me torture some of my best friends from school."

"Oh dear lord," murmured the librarian, feeling a little sick and full of pity for the Japanese teen. "But that was under a spell, right? It wasn't your own free will."

Ichigo took a shuddering breath. "Giles, that's not all I did."

Giles reached over and patted Ichigo's hands. "You already started telling me. That is part of the healing process. Tell me everything."

"...They then took the spell off and gave me a dagger," Ichigo said. "And they left me there in the room with all my friends whom I tortured. And I... I-I didn't even attack the vamp who had made me do all those horrible..."

"What did you do?"

"I... I went back to my friends, and all of them were way beyond any help, they were barely alive, really, and I..." Ichigo was crying now, burying his face in his hands, the hot drink forgotten on the table. The words were initially so muffled that Giles had to take a moment to decipher in his head, and when he did the librarian had to stand up and look away from the weeping teenager.

_I slit their throats, all five of them._

"Oh God," Giles muttered again, removing his glasses and wiping them. How old had Ichigo been then? Fifteen? Fourteen, even? To have forced a child to do all that – to have forced a mere child to witness and participate... Giles caught himself clenching his fists. No wonder Urahara was so protective. He was not going to let Ichigo go through such trauma again. The boy was sobbing so hard it sounded like he was about to throw up, and it took all of Giles' iron will not to go over and comfort him. It was something Ichigo had to work through, and by the sound of it Ichigo really needed to let out his frustration and sorrow and terror.

Suddenly a question struck the Watcher.

"After you... after your friends died, what did you do?"

Ichigo sniffed, his emotions slowly coming back under control. His voice was eerily calm. "I took the dagger and stuck it in my chest."

When Giles met his eyes Ichigo merely looked weary, not afraid. Giles did not know if that was good or bad.

"You should have died then," said the Watcher. "But you didn't."

"Because Urahara put a demon in me to keep my heart going," explained the teen. "He's been in me ever since. I think... I think my heart has repaired itself already but I can't get the demon out of me now."

"He put-" Giles had difficulty framing the words. "He put a demon in you to-"

"To keep me alive," answered Ichigo quietly. "He freaked, I think, and that was all he could think of at the moment. So... so I have a demon in me now, and it really hates me, and even I hate myself for what I've done and I'm terrified at, at what I might end up doing and..."

Giles let the young man trail off. Ichigo peered up at him, his eyes large and lost. The teenager's gaze, gaunt and sickly in the pale light of the table lamp, seemed hauntingly familiar to that of Jenny's the last time Giles saw her alive.

Ichigo shut his eyes. "Giles, what if they use my friends again? What if... what if the spell was never lifted and... what if I have to cut my friends' throats again?"

"The vampires you speak of are still alive?" asked Giles.

Startled by the query, Ichigo looked up at the librarian. "They are here in Sunnydale. The demon on the roof works for them and... I don't know what they want with me or Shirosaki, but they want me around, and they've been here since I got here."

"Hold it a second," said Giles. "The vampires that – that did all those things to you – are here in Sunnydale? And neither you nor Urahara thought to inform us?"

"I didn't remember everything," Ichigo protested. "We did tell you about the very old vampires. Aizen and Ichimaru?"

"Right, you did." Giles sighed. "But knowledge of how brutal they can be puts them on a scale completely different from before. We will have to think of a strategy to deal with them sooner rather than later."

"But... what about the rest of the gang?" asked Ichigo, his voice small. "Can I... should I still work with all of you? It may put everybody in danger..."

"We've all been put in danger by association with the Slayer alone," said Giles, though he understood what Ichigo was actually saying.

The boy stood up. "I might put everybody in danger, Giles. I might just- I might be the one you guys put down the next time."

"Now that we know," said Giles, facing the child – for Ichigo was a child, regardless of his emotional age – and folding his arms, "we are better prepared. While I don't think any benefit could come of you telling Willow and Xander, rest assured that should there be a need, I will take on the responsibility."

"Can you?" Ichigo's voice was small. "If you need to, can you kill me?"

Giles nodded. "I will do anything to make sure that the world is kept safe."

The redheaded boy smiled and reached out a hand. "Shake on it."

The Watcher shook.

The door opened and Urahara entered. He stared at the two whose hands were still joined and narrowed his gaze. "This ought to be good."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

After Giles had gone, Urahara and Ichigo went to the older man's bedroom and unpacked his luggage. Since neither were in the mood to sleep, Ichigo caught Urahara up on what he had shared with the British.

Urahara was silent for a very long time after they had put away the last of his socks and tossed the dirty laundry into the basket. "I think you made a wise decision telling him," he said at last. "But why didn't you wait for me to return before you told him?"

"I thought that perhaps you wouldn't want me to tell him." Ichigo plucked at his sweatpants. "I thought... I thought you might've wanted me to keep it secret."

"I would support you in everything you do, Ichigo," said Urahara, touching Ichigo's right cheek tenderly.

The younger male smiled and leaned into the contact. It was wonderful having Urahara back with him. Perhaps he was sappy for even thinking it, but Ichigo felt better and safer with the older man about the house.

The blond man sighed and said, "I've news from Japan too."

"Oh? They did the upgrades?"

"Yeah," answered Urahara. "Check this out."

He straightened his prosthetic right arm and the mechanical gears clicked into place. Ichigo still had to swallow every time he saw it; it felt alive though it obviously was not.

Urahara said, "Tessai put in the necessary upgrades. Right now I still have to think into the various actions for the arm to operate, but he promises that after a couple months it should be as natural as breathing."

"Think into the actions?" asked Ichigo. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if I wanna unbutton this shirt, I have to figure out which finger does the pushing and the sliding..." The physics teacher scowled in concentration until his new hand ripped a hole in the shirt. "Damn. Not my best demonstration."

"No, it's not," agreed Ichigo with a small smile. "You're tired from a very long flight. Your left arm is tired from lugging your luggage. Let me do it."

Urahara felt a small blush crawl up the back of his neck as the teenager began undoing the rest of the buttons. "Um..."

"It's just one of the many things I'm willing and able to help you out with until your right arm is operable," said Ichigo softly. His warm gaze met Urahara's. "We'll head to the physiotherapist's tomorrow and reschedule your sessions now that you're back. Even if you can use your mind to control this arm, you'll still need to build up the muscles there to not-"

"-not feel the strain from having to use a prosthetic," Urahara completed, as quietly as Ichigo. He leaned forward until his lips brushed against the younger man's cheek. "Thank you."

"Here. Ready?" Ichigo grunted as the prosthetic slid away from Urahara's shoulder. The stump was red where straps and cushions had pressed into the skin. Ichigo skated his fingers over the mildly tender spots and then drew his hand back, as if stung. "I'll... put this by the nightstand. And wake me up if you need anything."

Urahara smiled and restrained himself from quipping the corny statement that popped into his head. Only after the door was closed then did he utter under his breath, "All I need is you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The day dawned clear. Joyce Summers scrubbed irritatedly at the back of the dishwasher, wishing that there was some magic that could scour the gunk from the outlet. Suddenly she drew back from the machine.

_Could it be..._

She paused. On a whim she put down the scrubbing brush and pulled off her rubber gloves, before she headed towards the front door. Then she caught her own hopes rising.

_No, Joyce. That always leads to the bad feeling of disappointment. You don't wanna go there. _Having reminded herself, she turned to go back to the kitchen, but then there was a soft scuffing noise outside the front door. And a shadow.

Joyce held her breath. Let it out. Took another one.

She then went to the door and opened it.

In the sunlight, on the doorstep, Buffy Anne Summers looked at her mother, guilt and love in her large eyes. She glanced at her feet again, unable to hold eye contact for long.

Joyce never felt happier in her whole life.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx


	2. Go Beyond the Veil

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Go Beyond the Veil**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Buffy folded her duffel bag into the bottom of her wardrobe and looked about her room. It was the same and yet not the same. She hugged herself for a moment before she breathed out. It was time. She picked up her coat and checked her reflection in the mirror. Heading to her mother's room, she heard the sound of hammering down the hallway. At the door she saw Joyce putting in nails to hang some art.

"Mom?"

Joyce jumped and the hammer knocked a hole in the wall. She swiveled around and smiled, sort of in surprise, and said, "Oh, Buffy. I wasn't, uh. I didn't see you."

"Sorry."

"That? It's all right. I guess I just got used to all the quiet while you were gone," said Joyce, then hurriedly added, "but it's okay now. Look-"

She pulled out a mask from a nearby crate. It had large, scowling eyes and had sharp dagger-like teeth at the bottom. Joyce hung it up and nodded with satisfaction. Looking at Buffy, she asked, "Do you like it?"

"It's, um..." Buffy tried to find words and ended with, "I think I'd rather go with the hole."

"It's from Nigeria. We got a very exciting shipment at the gallery. I thought I'd hang a few pieces in  
>here. It cheers up the room," Joyce said.<p>

Buffy made a face. "It's angry at the room, mom. It wants the room to suffer."

Joyce shook her head affectionately. "Oh, you have no appreciation of primitive art forms." Then she noticed that her daughter was holding a coat in her arms. She smiled, sort of nervously, and asked almost casually, "Are you heading out?"

_Nice try at casual, mom. _Buffy nodded. "Thought I'd look for the gang. Though, if you don't want me to go, I can-"

"No! No, it's all right. Um, go ahead." Joyce tried to reassure her daughter, her hammer clutched tightly.

"Mom, I really can stay if-"

"No. We're okay. Go see your friends. And Mr Giles. They'll be happy to see you. I'll just finish up in here," said Joyce just a tad too strongly. "Go find them. But uh, not too late."

Buffy smiled thinly. "I know. I'll be back home quickly." She turned to leave and then swiveled about to add, "Mom?"

The hammer swung wild and knocked another hole in the wall.

The Slayer waved awkwardly. "Never mind. See ya later."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo looked over his shoulder at Urahara at the dinner table. "They're reaching soon. I'm gonna join the gang on their patrol. You wanna come with?"

"I'll pass, thanks." Urahara managed to maneuver another forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Though his newly mounted 'technomagical' prosthetic right arm was able to carry out large actions, it was near impossible at the moment when it came to fine motor skills. He was eating with his left hand, which accounted for his extremely long meal. Ichigo had been thoughtful enough to cook breaded fish, though it had been charred slightly, along with fork- and spoon-friendly side dishes. It would be some time before Urahara would be able to use chopsticks.

"I'll be home pretty soon," said Ichigo, drying the dishes before setting them back on the rack. "Just leave the dishes in the sink and I'll clean them when I get back. Don't forget to throw the arm sock into the laundry basket; we'll put on a fresh one tomorrow morning."

"Yes, yes..." Although his tone was flippant, Urahara felt upset that his ward had become his caregiver. Ichigo was kind and never made the older man feel like he was incapable of doing anything, but the bitterness remained in him for having landed in such a pathetic state.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy wove her way through one of the many alleys littering the less savory part of town (one street away from the good part of town). It was strangely quiet. Then she frowned when she saw someone skulking around a building.

_Vampire?_

Suddenly her foot kicked against an empty beer can which rattled to the side. It also rattled the shadowy figure which swerved around and plunged a stake towards Buffy's heart. The Slayer grabbed the weapon out of his grip.

It was Xander.

"Didn't anyone tell you about playing with pointy sticks? It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye," Buffy scolded with a wide grin. She was very glad to see him.

"You..." For once Xander seemed at a loss for words. He gulped. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

Then he shook his head and said, "Jeez, Buff..."

He reached over to hug her when Buffy noticed another skulking figure now rushing towards them. It tackled Xander, who grappled with it. As expected, it was a vampire. Buffy blindsided the bloodsucker and, pushing Xander to the side, she raised the stake she had in her hand when her friend got to his feet. They shoved the vampire down and Buffy offered Xander the stake.

"Go on, it's your stakeout," said the blonde.

"Oh no, go ahead," said Xander, who was puffing slightly.

"No, it's-"

They were interrupted by the electronic squawking from a walkie-talkie on Xander's belt. Buffy glanced down and noted the Fisher-Price toy. It crackled and a voice came over the line.

_'Come in, Nighthawk. Is everything okay?'_

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Nighthawk?"

Embarrassed, Xander fumbled at his belt for the walkie-talkie. The vampire took the opportunity and plowed into Buffy, shoving her off her feet. Xander tried to grab the vampire off his friend but the vamp threw him backwards into a convenient pile of trash.

Buffy wrestled with the vampire, trying to find a hold to unbalance him. Months of not fighting bloodsuckers had taken its toll, and this one seemed a little more skilled than the usual just-woken-up monster. Two pairs of hands suddenly reached around and yanked the vampire away from the Slayer. Buffy flipped to a fighting stance, only to see that Cordelia and Oz had grabbed hold of the vampire and Willow was about to stake him. Unfortunately, Buffy's suspicion about this particular vamp being more skilled was accurate; it executed an almost perfect judo-style throw that had Cordelia sprawling into Willow, before sweeping Oz from his feet. Just as the vampire was about to escape, the Slayer dashed forward and took it on again with rapid hand-to-hand, and when she saw an opening her stake darted forward and buried itself in the vamp's heart.

Then she turned around and gave the assembled team a little wave. "Hi. Um."

"Holy shit." The voice came from behind her. Buffy turned around and saw Ichigo standing there, also armed with a stake. "Buffy?"

"That about sums it up," Oz quipped.

Xander fell back into the trash.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The group was now standing in front of Giles' apartment. Buffy had her finger poised over the door for the past five minutes. Then she lowered it again.

"Maybe we can do this tomorrow," she suggested meekly.

"Are you afraid that he'll be angry?" asked Willow softly.

Xander scoffed. "What, just because she skipped town for months without leaving a note, abandoned her post, her family and her friends and never let us know if she was alive or dead and kept him up worrying every single night?" He paused and turned to the others. "Maybe we should wait out here."

"Thanks, Xander. Really." Buffy took another deep breath, raised her hand, and let it fall again.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and leaned over the blonde's shoulder, rapping loudly on the door. He glanced at Buffy and whispered, "He'll be glad to see you."

The door opened and Giles seemed startled at seeing the large group of teenagers. Then he took in the blonde girl standing right in front of him.

"Hi Giles."

"Buffy," said Giles, and smiled warmly. "Welcome home."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The gang had taken over Giles' living room and the Watcher grabbed the chance to be in the kitchen alone. He could not stop smiling. It had been a surprise – more of a shock, really – to see Buffy on his doorstep, and he honestly could not recall a time when he had been more glad.

"Yeah, I just got in a few hours ago." Buffy's voice filtered in from the living room in response to something Xander said. "Went to see mom first."

"And how did you find her?" asked Ichigo.

"I pretty much remembered the address..."

The redhead sighed audibly."I meant how was she when she saw you-"

"Hey," Xander interrupted, "did you go to Belgium?"

The kettle sang out, cutting off what was likely to be a confused reply from the Slayer. Giles busied himself with the tea preparations and served up a platter of biscuits. As he placed the trays on the coffee table, the biscuits – cookies, the children here called them cookies, he reminded himself – were swooped on by the teens, leaving the tea untouched.

Oz munched quietly and commented, "So, hey. You're not wanted for murder anymore."

"Oh good," Buffy said. "That was such a drag."

"Were you, like, living in a box or something?" Cordelia delicately brushed off the crumbs from her fingers by flicking them over Giles' couch cushions. The librarian winced inwardly.

Suddenly Buffy looked cornered. "Um, it's a long story-"

"So let's cut to the chase and tell us about how you rescued an old folks' retirement home from some demon-possessed puppies," quipped Xander eagerly.

Ichigo cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should just lay off for a bit, guys. She's just got back."

"Yes," said Giles, thankful that someone in the group had some common sense. "I would think that grilling Buffy about h-her summer activities at this moment would be rather overwhelming."

The Slayer appeared relieved. "Like they said."

Xander seemed somewhat put out, but he shrugged and said, "Okay. In fact, you can leave the slaying to us while you settle in."

"I noticed," affirmed Buffy. "You guys looked completely on top of the slaying bit, all tricked out and stuff."

"Well, yes, but our outfits suck." Cordelia wrinkled her nose slightly in distaste. "That whole Rambo thing is so over. I'm thinking – preppy chic, but with an edge."

"Hilfiger with black, metal and leather?" Ichigo suggested in an aside to the brunette.

Cordy grimaced again. "Ugh, not the metal and leather. Black is fine. Kinda camouflagey."

"Still, we're getting good," chirped Willow, speaking for the first time since they entered Giles' home. "We're dusting like, nine out of ten!"

"Six," Oz whispered.

"Six out of ten!" Willow corrected without losing any enthusiasm in her voice.

Oz smiled fondly. "Eight out of ten if Ichigo is with us."

"I don't always go on the slaying trips now that Urahara's out of the hospital," explained the orange-haired boy to the Slayer. Buffy's brow creased slightly and Ichigo elaborated, "I help out around the house because he's still getting used to his prosthesis."

"Prosthesis?"

"Oh right, you weren't there. I-I mean," Ichigo faltered. Taking a deep breath, he went on, "His right arm was ripped off by Ulquiorra. So, um, he had to get fitted for a prosthetic arm and then there were like, a ton of physio sessions and all. Until he is used to it I'm kinda doing all sorts of things for him."

Buffy blanched. "Ripped off?"

"Yep. It's all right now. The injury is healed and he's getting better." Ichigo smiled, almost too casually.

"Whatever. We've been kicking undead booty," declared Xander.

Though Ichigo knew Xander hadn't meant to be callous, that dismissive attitude hurt a bit. Instead of retorting, he asked Buffy, "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm kinda jonesing for some brainless fun. You guys feel like hanging?" Buffy flushed. "I just – I wanna get back to normal stuff as soon as I can. School, slaying, hanging with friends. You know."

Ichigo made a face. "Sorry. Physio session after school with Urahara."

"I'll be glad to, except I'm kinda, uh, tied up," said Xander, reaching to hold Cordelia's wrist.

She smiled and pulled her hand away gently. "You wish."

"Will?" asked Buffy, a hopeful lilt to her voice.

Willow glanced uncomfortably at Oz, then shuffled. "I have some school stuff, but I guess I could reschedule."

"As for school," remarked Giles, sipping his tea, "you know you'll have to speak with Principal Snyder before you can get back in."

"On it." Buffy flashed him a quick smile which did not mask her worry. "Mom's made an appointment with his ugliness. One look at Mom-Face and I'm sure he'll cave."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Gin trailed his fingers over the walls of the mansion, singing softly. The thick curtains blocked out the light and the vampire wondered if he could just twitch them aside for a split second, to see the world in daylight. It had been so _long_... What was the world like now, out in the sun?

"Kitsune," Aizen called from down the hall.

Gin restrained himself. "Taishou. What is it?"

"Come here."

Gin obediently trotted over and was pulled into Aizen's embrace. The taller vampire inhaled Gin's scent and then whispered harshly against his ear, "Don't ever think of doing that."

"Doing what, taishou?" asked Gin innocently, knowing very well what Aizen meant.

"A death wish is not in your character, my love. Does the soul still taint you?"

"Nah." Burying his face into Aizen's neck, Gin smirked and said, "I was just thinking of daylight."

"Which we will be able to enjoy after the ritual." Aizen brushed Gin's hair from his face. "Don't rush things now, kitsune. We're still vulnerable."

"But we will be invulnerable soon, won't we?"

"If things go according to plan, yes," agreed Aizen. "But how often do things go according to plan?"

The younger vampire chuckled. "We'll just have to tweak events our way then."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"No. Absolutely not. Not under any circumstances," asserted Snyder. Visceral glee was written all over his ratlike features and Buffy had to restrain the urge to smack the look from his stupid, smirking face.

Mrs Summers was not having any of it. "You can't keep her out of school. You don't have the right."

The principal steepled his fingers together. "I not only have the right, but I also have a nearly physical sensation of pleasure at keeping her out." He paused and raised an eyebrow. "I'd describe myself as tingly."

"She was cleared of all those charges."

"But she is still a trouble-maker in school, a frequent truant, often damaging school property and the occasional student and her grade point average is-" Snyder sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry. Another tingle moment."

Buffy had had enough. Principal Snyder was completely enjoying this, the troll, and damned it if she let him continue. "Let's go, mom."

"I'll go to the Board," Joyce threatened. "How dare you keep a young girl from her education?"

"Go ahead. I'm sure a girl of Buffy's talents would find a way to land on her feet," said Snyder. "In fact, as I was driving to school, I saw that Hot Dog on a Stik was hiring." He leered at the Slayer. "I'm sure you'll look so cute in that little hat."

Joyce grabbed her purse. "I can't understand your cavalier attitude towards a young student's future. If I have to, I'll go all the way to the Mayor."

The principal smiled lopsidedly as both Summers women exited his office. "Wouldn't that be interesting."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy moped in the car as Joyce drove them to the Coffee Spot. Mrs Summers pulled to the curb and said, "Look. Even if Sunnydale High doesn't take you back, we can still swing private school."

"Like with jackets and kilts?" Buffy was horrified. "You want me to get field hockey knees?"

"It's not that bad."

"How about homeschooling? It's not just for scary religious types anymore."

Joyce Summers smiled empathetically. "We'll talk about it again. Do you want me to wait with you?"

Buffy shook her head. "It's all right. I'll see you later." She climbed out of the SUV and waved her mother goodbye. The streets were not crowded since it was a workday, but there were some college kids milling about and an occasional adult or two. Buffy found a seat in the Coffee Spot and nursed a lonely frappecino, hoping that Willow could turn up soon.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

An hour and a half later, Buffy was still waiting. Her one waiting-for-a-friend frappecino had turned into three and still Willow hadn't shown. She was contemplating leaving when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Will?" She turned, delighted.

Ichigo wagged his fingers. "Sorry to disappoint. She's not here yet?"

"No," sighed Buffy. Ichigo climbed into a chair and sipped his own cup of coffee. The blonde girl played with a sugar packet. "I don't know. Maybe something came up."

"Or maybe she's also trying to figure out what to talk to you about." The boy gazed at Buffy compassionately. He shrugged when the Slayer stared at him uncomprehendingly and added, "I notice things. She's not sure how she feels about you coming back so suddenly, though she's been wanting that for the whole summer."

Feeling uncomfortable with the topic, Buffy cleared her throat and asked, "I thought you had to attend a physiotherapy session with Urahara?"

"He's doing his exercises now so for the next hour I'm free," said Ichigo. He stirred his coffee and smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry for what happened."

"Wasn't your fault," the redhead said. "Anyway, it got us to really talk again. Communicate. Before he... before he lost his arm, I was still really angry at him. Now I'm just happy to have him in my life. I thought I'd lose him forever when Ulquiorra grabbed him..." Ichigo trailed off when he saw how Buffy was staring at him. "Uh. Yeah. How are you doing? Coming home after... well, there has to be a period of adjustment I suppose."

"I suppose." The Slayer fidgeted, a little uneasy. "Ichigo, can I ask you something private?"

The boy tilted his head noncommittally. "I guess."

"Do you... Are you in love with Urahara?"

That wasn't entirely unexpected, even if it was rather intrusive. Ichigo felt his cheeks reddening and said softly, "Um... we have a history, and I don't, um." His eyes bored into the dark brown coffee, willing it to give him some liquid courage. "That would be a yes. I guess. I don't know. I mean, he means a lot to me, and I don't ever wanna lose him for real."

"Oh." A beat. Buffy stared at her own beverage. "Wow."

"Yeah. But, um. It isn't new. There was a time I hated him and I..." He glanced up and saw Buffy's wide eyes. Smiling almost apologetically, Ichigo rubbed his nose and said, "I ran away too. After the Master was killed, I ran away with my inner demon and lived in Japan for that summer."

That surprised Buffy. She set down her cup and listened.

"I've never really told you guys my story, because it's really painful to remember. But when I first got to Sunnydale, my memories had already been altered by my inner demon, and along with suppressing my memories it also suppressed my powers."

"Powers?"

"You're the Chosen One," Ichigo said, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "I am the avatar of a god. I have – I had powers that could easily wipe out evil. You remember the white light the night the Master walked? And I could detect and differentiate demons and monsters around me."

"Why were these powers suppressed? I'd be more than glad to use them."

"It's a side effect of altering my memories," supplied Ichigo. "And my memories would probably have driven me insane or suicidal. Anyway, long story short, Urahara needed me to access my powers, so he broke through the memory seal, got me to use my evil-cleansing powers, and then I flipped out over what I recollected. So I ran."

"Because it was too painful to stay," said Buffy. She met Ichigo's gaze and saw the compassion in his eyes. "I know the feeling."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy came home to see a middle-aged woman coming down the walk. She spotted Buffy and beamed widely.

"You must be Buffy," she declared. "My, aren't you a picture? I'm Pat. I'm sure your mom has told you all about us, down at the book club? Anyway, I'm just glad you're home. It has been a terrible time for Joyce, just terrible. And that was with us reading _The Deep End of the Ocean_, and your situation and all? She was a _wreck_. Anyhow, I'm really glad you're home now and not gallivanting off anytime soon. I'd stay longer, but I have another appointment. I just came by to see how Joyce was doing and pass her some muffins I baked this morning. Well, I shan't keep you from returning home now."

A little overwhelmed by the rush, Buffy took it all in with a strange, fixed smile on her face. "Bye."

"Bye now!"

When she opened the door, Joyce was there putting a book on the shelf. "Hey Buffy, I wasn't expecting you yet. Willow called to say that she had to go to a meeting about her computer science lessons."

"Oh. Okay." Buffy managed a smile. "That's all right. I can catch up with her another time."

"By the way, Buffy, wouldn't it be fun to invite Mr Giles and your friends over for dinner tomorrow night?"

That was a forced segue if Buffy ever heard one. She looked over at her mother and fiddled with her necklace.

Joyce looked a little disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. "Since I've already asked, I was sort of hoping that it would be okay."

"I-I guess. It'd be great. Really." Buffy smiled, but there was a tightness in the atmosphere.

Mrs Summers bustled about and then asked, "Buffy?"

"Yes?"

"Go and get the good dishes from the basement. The ones we keep for company."

Buffy was incredulous. "Mom, Giles and the gang aren't company plate people. They're regular plate people."

"It'd be nice," said Buffy's mother firmly. "Go. Indulge your mom."

That resembled normalcy, almost. Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes but trotted downstairs to get the plates.

It was dusty and Buffy coughed to clear her throat. Her mother had been busy down here too, as boxes and cases were stacked up neatly. The girl swallowed a pang of guilt – she had a feeling it would not be her first – and headed for the shelves holding the dishes. A picture, face down on the shelf, shifted. Buffy picked it up and stared at it, emotion rising within.

It was a group photo of the gang – Willow, Xander, Ichigo and him. It had been a bright day out in the quad after a tiring night putting down some hell-raising demons and Ichigo had persuaded Urahara to take a photo of the four of them. Though they appeared fine in the picture, Buffy knew that Willow had bruised her shins, Xander had a deep cut in his right forearm, and Ichigo had almost dislocated a shoulder. Still, the euphoria of having saved the world again carried them into the next day, and Buffy remembered how she felt she and her friends were invincible.

It felt like that was a Buffy in an alternate world now.

She put it back on the shelf to reach further back for the good plates when something else dislodged and fell by her feet. Startled, Buffy jumped back slightly, and then recoiled when the stench of death hit her nose.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Next time, I get to pick the mother-daughter bonding activity," said Buffy after they had wrapped the dead cat from the basement in an old T-shirt and placed it in a hole in the backyard. She leaned on the shovel, still a little disturbed that she had not caught the smell of the dead cat when she went into the basement. She really had adapted to the assorted 'fragrances' of the big city after those few months; she would need to retrain her senses to Sunnydale's environment.

Joyce Summers contemplated the grave and asked, "Do you want to say anything?"

Still caught up with her musings, Buffy said, "What? Thanks for stooping by and dying?"

"How about..." Mrs Summers looked somber for a moment. "Goodbye, stray cat, who lost its way. We hope you find it."

That hit Buffy and Joyce a little close to home and they barely glanced at each other as Buffy began filling in the shallow grave.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Urahara winced and rotated his right shoulder. He still suffered from a phantom arm, thinking that he had the rest of his right arm below the elbow, but as always he would be unpleasantly shocked when he tried to wiggle his fingers and nothing reacts.

The stump was a little tender to the touch when he prodded the redness. He sighed. Every day he woke, he still had the faint hope that it had been a bad dream. How long before he truly accepted that he was a cripple now?

The magically-enhanced prosthesis lay in its case on his writing table. There was so much to re-learn, yet Urahara could not find any motivation to do so. He had to learn anew how to write, though that wasn't as big a problem if he could teach using a computer; how to feed himself without splattering his clothes with any sauce; how to put on and take off his clothes; how to pee without feeling weird holding himself with his left hand... the list was endless.

If it had been a crisis involving a baby-eating, shapeshifting fiend which breathed fire and spewed winged monkeys, Urahara would be neck deep in research, enjoying the intellectual challenge and looking forward to the physical clash at the end of it. But when faced with a life-changer of an obstacle, Urahara felt paralyzed.

"Urahara?" Ichigo called from outside the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Urahara. He had given up the issue of privacy after they came back from the hospital. Initially he refused to let Ichigo help, but when the blond man was unable to brush his teeth properly that first night (dropping his toothbrush seven times in a row, and finally fumbling it into the toilet) he had acceded to the inevitable. In any case Ichigo was sensitive enough not to take charge of everything, only assisting when Urahara needed help. They also bought a battery-operated toothbrush the next day.

The teenage boy came in, already changed for bed. He came over and sat on Urahara's bed, next to the older man.

"It looks sore," he said eventually. He still had difficulty looking at the stump; Urahara could still detect the slight grimace whenever the younger male's gaze passed over it. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really," said Urahara. His left palm brushed across the scarred, puckered injury. "I'm just a little tired I guess."

"I met Buffy today at the Coffee Spot." Ichigo scrubbed the back of his head. "Willow wasn't there with her, so I spent time talking to her and... she seems a little lost."

The teacher had already heard about the Slayer's return, but had not had the chance to meet with her yet. "So what did you do?"

"I... told her about the time I ran away."

The teacher made no response. After a few minutes, he sighed. "That was probably the best thing you could have done."

"...You really think so?" asked Ichigo. "I was afraid... And um, she asked me something that... that I've been asking myself a few times while you were gone. When you were in Tokyo."

"What question was that?"

"Urahara," began the younger man, and hesitated. He took a deep breath and gazed into Urahara's gray eyes. "Do you love me?"

The teacher smiled sadly. "I don't think I am qualified to any more, not after all the things I've done to you."

"You're avoiding the question." Ichigo stared at Urahara. His fists clenched around Urahara's blanket. His voice grew smaller, more frightened as he spoke. "She asked me if I loved you and, and I said – I said yes."

That stunned Urahara.

"I still do love you, despite everything that has happened. And after the scare with Ulquiorra, I don't think I can imagine a time without-without you in my life." The young man's face was completely red by now as he plucked at the blanket nervously. "I just... I just wanna know if... Do you?"

Urahara considered the query. If it had been before he lost his right arm, he would have answered immediately. Ever since he had taken advantage of Ichigo before rousing the boy's true memories, Urahara had felt the guilt eating away inside, and along with the guilt had been a terrible longing. Now... but he owed Ichigo the truth. He had lied to the young man too many times.

"I do," replied Urahara, soft and uncertain. "But I can't. Not with this, not like this."

"I don't understand," Ichigo murmured, his chocolate eyes sliding up to meet a sad gray gaze.

"I'm gonna be a burden on you, Ichigo. And you're not... you are _extraordinary_, and an extraordinary person would have a difficult life ahead of them without taking on more burdens. I cannot, in all conscience, weigh you down with me and my problems." Urahara reached out with his left hand and skated his fingers over Ichigo's cheek. "I wish – I really, really wish – that I had died instead of letting you become a caretaker of a cripple."

"You're not crippled!" cried Ichigo, cheeks darkening with indignation. Tears threatened and he swallowed them back."You have a handicap, yes, but that just means you have to work harder and, and you have that magic hand and I don't care if I have to care for you for the rest of my life. I don't."

"Not now, but eventually." Urahara smiled wider, his eyes growing more sorrowful.

Ichigo's indignation turned to anger. "Don't you dare patronize me, Urahara Kisuke. We don't know that."

"And what then, Ichigo? When you're sick of caring for an invalid, when you have more responsibilities than you should have to bear at twenty years old, when everyone around you is having fun, what then?"

The redhead scowled, momentarily robbed of words.

Urahara shook his head and sighed. "It's late, Ichigo. Go to bed."

The younger male stood up and headed for the door. At the entryway, he paused, and then ran back to where Urahara was, grabbed him by the collar and kissed the older man right on the lips as hard as he could.

"I'm no longer a child, Urahara Kisuke," breathed Ichigo, his eyes glimmering fiercely. He chewed his upper lip for a moment and said, "Even if I do regret my decision in the future, that's my problem. Right now, I love you and I want to care for you. So shut up and accept it."

The older man closed his eyes at both the sweetness of the kiss and the passionate words. He chuckled ruefully and muttered, "You're as stubborn as I ever was."

"Damn right I am."

Opening his eyes, Urahara smiled softly and caressed Ichigo's cheek. "Go to bed. I promise we'll talk more about this when I'm not so exhausted."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Kira trailed his fingers over Hisagi's back, marveling at the sleek tension of the well-honed muscles. The younger vampire stirred sleepily and rolled over.

"Kira, don't you want to rest? It was a long hunt we were on," said Hisagi.

"I'm not tired yet," said the blond vampire, but he lay down next to his undead lover anyway. Elegant fingers continued their imaginary path, mapping out a design on Hisagi's darker skin. The brunet smiled and inhaled deeply, before asking, "What's troubling you?"

"What's troubling me?" echoed Kira. "Nothing."

"You don't brood unless there is something bugging you." Hisagi tilted his head and kissed Kira tenderly. "Share with me please?"

Kira smiled. "It's nothing major. I just wonder what's going to happen to us when Daddy and Father gets their wish."

"We will remain the same, I suppose," said Hisagi tentatively. "I've not imagined an existence beyond this."

"And when you were human, did you imagine _this_ existence?"

"No," replied the young vampire honestly. He smiled, memories of his turning still vivid. "I guess one has to experience it to understand it."

Kira sighed luxuriously. "I remember how you fought at the end. Like a cornered wolf, so beautiful and desperate... If we ever find another like that, let's sire him. Or her."

"I thought you didn't like women."

"You thought you didn't like men," taunted Kira, "and look what got you here."

"You." Hisagi kissed his sire again, his weariness fading and ardor rising. Kira laughed and wrapped his slender arms about Hisagi, relishing once again in his prize.

_Humanity and their pathetic human morals and principles,_ he thought scornfully. _We demons get it right – we claim what we want when we want it. _

_That's the only way to live._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy pored over the morning newspaper, idly wondering whether her dreams of sentient, aggressive plants were prophetic in nature. Probably not. Though Urahara had mentioned before that _Little Shop of Horrors_ was based on an actual event, Buffy doubted that Sunnydale was going to be attacked by a man-eating Venus flytrap. Unless someone bought a consignment and was intending to sell it to the unsuspecting public, which was the reason why Buffy was scrutinizing the classifieds.

"Morning Buffy," Joyce Summers said brightly. "I'll be meeting with a member of the school board during my lunch break. Would you like to come help out at the gallery?"

"Uh, it's all right, mom. I'll just do the laundry today." The Slayer smiled at her mother, knowing that it was a weak imitation of a smile and hoping that Mrs Summers would just let it be.

She did. Turning to the refrigerator for skim milk, she said, "I've also called Miss Porter's. They do take in late admissions so if things don't work out at Sunnydale High, we have other options."

Buffy was horrified."Miss Porter's? As in jackets, kilts, and no boys? Care to throw in a little foot binding there?"

"Buffy," said Joyce. Her voice was hard. "You've made some bad choices. You may just have to live with the consequences."

The Slayer bit her tongue. She had nothing to say to that.

"Couldn't you tell some people? The police, or Principal Snyder, or... someone. They can and should make an exception for you." Joyce seemed to feel that the tension was too much and opened the back door for fresh air, when something darted indoors.

A stench filled the air. Buffy and her mother stared at the thing that had just ran into the house and was hissing at them under the kitchen table.

It was the dead cat they buried yesterday.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Welcome to the Hellmouth petting zoo," drawled Buffy as Giles trotted into the house.

The Watcher wrinkled his nose at the stink that clung to the air around him. "Yes, quite. Where is it?"

Buffy led Giles to her mother's bedroom, where it was now cringing under the bed. Joyce looked as if she intended to burn it down and her relief was palpable when she saw Giles. The librarian wasted no time grabbing the creature by the scruff of its neck – ye gods, it _did_ stink terribly up close – and placed the dead cat in a wire cage.

"I'll go and check what this is," said Giles.

"Yes, please. Thank you." Joyce Summers exchanged a look with the Watcher. There was something unsaid that hung between them, a tension that, while not too hostile, bore the feel that something was off-kilter.

Buffy decided not to dwell. "All right, let's bring zombie cat to the library and we'll convene. Research party."

"Oh, um, maybe your mother would prefer to have you at home?" suggested Giles, awkwardly balancing the yowling cat in the cage.

"No, it's all right, I have to the gallery and air out the house later," said Mrs Summers. "She can go with you to school."

Giles pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Actually, no, she can't. She's barred from entering school grounds."

Humiliated, Buffy murmured, "Oh. First time for everything, I guess. I wanna go to school and the school doesn't want me."

Another tense moment. Giles broke the silence as he gestured to the mask on the wall. "Very striking. Nigerian?"

"Yes, I've brought in a shipment of tribal art and there's quite a bit of interest."

Buffy interrupted, "I'm sorry. I like art talk as much as the next very boring person but that cat's smell is really too overpowering."

"Oh, right. I'll uh, determine the cat's exact origin and update you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Urahara was very touched by his students' concern. He walked out of his classroom, intending to go the staff lounge, when he was intercepted by Willow and Xander.

"Urahara!" chirped Willow. She winced slightly on seeing the metal-and-plastic prosthesis. "Is that... Um. Does it hurt?"

"Not the prosthetic arm," replied the physics teacher easily. "The stump will be a little sore in the evening after I take off the prosthesis, but it's a small price to pay for having an appendage I can use."

Xander nodded. "Yeah. My uncle Rory once had his false teeth fitted in wrong and it helped him lose fifteen pounds."

"What?" Willow and Urahara were confused.

"He couldn't eat anything without blending it into a paste," supplied the lanky teen. "They wired it wrong. Couldn't open his mouth for anything larger than a straw."

"Right," said Urahara. "Anyway, were you two looking for me?"

Willow nodded. "Oh yes. Giles said that there's a dead cat in the library."

Urahara raised his brows. "And that can't be dealt with by the janitor?"

"I-I guess he has his reasons..."

By then the two students had steered Urahara to the library doors and they went in.

_Yep, definitely a dead cat in here somewh- Holy shit._

Oz and Cordelia were already there. Oz rose from his chair with a glad smile and hugged Willow in greeting, while Xander took his seat next to Queen C. Oz then returned to peering into a cage where a matted, furry animal was pacing and hissing angrily. It was a cat, and it looked dead.

_Huh. Dead cat in the library. Kudos to Giles for understating it as usual._

"Ah, you're all here," said Giles as he exited the librarian's office. "I need help researching that. I got it from Buffy's house."

"It's interesting," remarked Oz, examining the cat. "It's dead, but it's moving."

"Nice pet, Giles," said Cordelia. She rolled her eyes. "Don't you like anything regular?"

"It's not my pet-"

"I think you should keep it," commented Oz. "I think it should be called Patches."

"I'm not keeping it as a pet," Giles protested. "Now look for spells or curses about zombies or revivification."

Urahara took a seat next to Ichigo. "I thought zombies are usually, you know, humans."

"Well, maybe this was practice," suggested Willow.

Xander tossed his bag in a chair. "That dead cat's really not my main concern right now."

Oz had taken to dangling a watch strap over the dead cat's cage. The furry undead was trying to paw at it. "No? Then what is?"

"The dinner party tonight, at Buffy's. I don't know what to expect," said Xander grumpily.

Willow sat up. "Oh, um. I told Buffy's mother that we'll help out. Bring stuff."

"I'm the dip!" Cordelia stated brightly.

Everyone looked at her.

Xander grinned and patted his girlfriend's knee. "You've got to admire the purity of it."

"What?" The brunette frowned slightly. "Onion dip. That's what I bring. Stirring – not cooking."

"Well, let's figure it out. What kind of deal is this? Is it a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?" Oz folded his arms over his abdomen.

Urahara looked over at the musician. "What's the difference?"

There was a hint of a knowing smile on the laconic guitarist's face. "A gathering. Brie and mellow song stylings. Shin dig. Dip. Less mellow song stylings. Perhaps a large amount of malt beverage. And a hootenanny? Just chock full of hoot and a _little_ bit of nanny."

"I hate brie," said Xander.

Cordelia nodded, in complete assent. "I know. It smells like Giles' cat."

"For the last time, it's not my-"

Xander ignored the librarian. "And what would we talk about at a gathering anyway? 'So Buffy – run into any nice pimps on your travels? And by the by, thanks for ruining our lives for the past three months'!"

"Xander-" Willow started and was roundly cut off too.

"You know what I mean," Xander said. "She doesn't want to talk about it. We don't want to talk about it. Maybe we should just shut up and dance."

Willow gnawed her lower lip uncertainly. "Buffy did say she wanted to loosen up. Have some kid time. Hey. Aren't you guys rehearsing tonight? Why don't you play at the party?"

Oz shrugged. "Sure. I can supply some Dingo action."

Urahara was feeling less and less sure of the situation. "I'm not sure that a shindig-"

"A hootenanny," Oz corrected politely.

"A... hootenanny... is what Buffy wants right now," said Urahara.

Giles agreed, raising a finger. "Maybe it's best to keep things more intimate. Buffy just got home - I'm sure she's still feeling disoriented."

"All the more reason to make her feel welcome," argued Willow. "And a big party says, Welcome Buffy!"

Xander took charge. "Okay - so two votes from the old guys for smelly cheese night - and, how  
>many votes for actual fun?"<p>

All the teenagers' hands went up.

Giles sighed. "Fine. Have it your way. I'm just glad she's home."

"We still have a reanimated feline puzzle to solve," replied Urahara. "Hey, Giles, could you pass me either Loewe's _Arcane_ _Repository of Deities _or Cheng's _Codex_ _Xibalba_? I might as well put my break to good use."

Xander peered around. "Anyone know where Ichigo is? Maybe he could help with bringing some food, because all I'm bringing is an appetite. And a smoking hot girlfriend."

"He's with the Physics Club," said Urahara as he examined the texts available on the table. "They have a display to set up for the District Science Fair and I think it's gonna take some time. Someone needed help with the electro-magnetic reversing drive. I suppose we'll be late."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The doorbell rang and Buffy hurried to the door. She was, to her own surprise, looking forward to the dinner. It would be nice to just sit with everyone and talk. However, when she opened the door, it was Pat.

"There you are," she exclaimed with a beam. "Not thinking about any more flights of fancy, I hope?" Without giving Buffy a chance to reply, she added, "Joyce said there was room for one more - so I said 'forget facial night - let's party!' I bet you like empanadas."

She thrust a stack of Tupperware to the younger girl and waited. Buffy stared at the packed food in her arms and then back at Pat. She made herself smile. "Do you want to see my mother?"

"Sure-"

"MOOOOOM!" yelled Buffy.

Joyce emerged from the kitchen. "Pat! You're early!"

The two women entered the kitchen, Mrs Summers taking the food from Buffy. The Slayer sighed and adjusted her dress. She hoped Willow and the rest of the gang would come soon.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The doorbell rang again.

"Hey Buffy, where do you want us to set up?" asked Devon.

It was the Dingoes, along with their groupies.

"Uh..."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Music pounded throughout the living room and people were mingling, dancing and having fun. Most of them, anyway; Buffy was definitely feeling rather lost. Buffy wove through the clusters, most of which were not familiar to her.

She spied Willow near the band, bopping her head to Oz's playing. Buffy navigated over to her best friend and shouted, "Hey!"

"Hey!" Willow replied, but her attention never wavered from Oz's small smile.

"This is..." Buffy searched for a word. "Large!"

Willow beamed. "Yeah! Isn't it great?"

"It's great! It's just that I thought it'd be more – us?" Buffy gestured, trying to explain. "More the gang?"

"Sorry, what?" shouted Willow, Buffy's words having been drowned out by Devon's drawling singing and a loud riff from the drummer.

"This is amazing," said the Slayer loudly. "But I still just want to hang with the gang."

Willow waved her hands by her ears, signaling that she could not quite hear what her friend was saying.

The blonde sighed and walked away. Then she changed her mind and pulled Willow off to the side. "Is everything okay? You seem to be... I don't know - avoiding me. In the one-on-one sense." Buffy nibbled her lower lip.

Willow smiled, but there was a shade of discomfort. "What? This isn't avoiding. See? Here you are. Here I am."

Buffy wasn't convinced, but she wasn't sure how to continue. "So – we're okay?"

"Sure! That's why, with the party." The red-haired girl swung her hands about her sides. "Cause we're all glad you're back."

"Okay." The blonde girl looked about her, and then back at Willow. "Okay. That's great."

Thus having dealt with Buffy, Willow gave her friend a wave and returned to the Dingoes. Buffy could not help feeling as if she was abandoned.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"What's this party for anyway?"

"I hear it's for some chick who got out of rehab."

Buffy tried not to be offended or hurt by the words she overheard in passing. Somehow she was at home, but not home. She wished Giles was here, or Ichigo; they would understand.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo and Jayson put in the last of the components and the orange-haired young man grinned. "There. That's done."

"Thanks, Ichigo," said Jayson. He pointed to the door. "Think Mr Urahara is looking for you."

Ichigo turned and saw the teacher nodding at them. He bade his friend goodbye, grabbed his book bag and jogged over to Urahara. "You're done?"

"Not quite. You?"

"Yeah, it's settled. Library?"

"I was on my way to grabbing a soda," explained Urahara as the two walked towards the library. "I'm getting sick of tea, to tell the truth."

Ichigo chuckled. "Thought that'd never happen. I thought you lived on it."

"Ocha or macha, yes. Not everlasting Earl Grey." Urahara grimaced. "And I need a sugar rush."

They stopped at the soda machine and Ichigo leaned against the wall. "Um, so how's the thing with the dead cat?"

"Willow didn't catch you up before she left?" Urahara popped the tab on his Dr Pepper. "No luck. Giles is still searching, and since you're here we might have better luck with three pairs of eyes looking."

"I'm in," agreed Ichigo easily. "But we gotta go to Buffy's house by eight."

"We'll be there," Urahara assured. He swatted at a fly that circled his head, slapping it to the ground. "Ew."

Ichigo snagged a sip of the soda and inclined his head. "Urahara, I wanna ask your opinion about something."

"About what?"

"Should I tell the gang about my past?"

The blond man blinked in surprise. He was tempted to ask if the teen was sure, but that was rather obvious: Ichigo was uncertain of his next move. He cleared his throat. "May I ask why you are considering it?"

"It's just that... I don't know. I guess I feel that, that I need them to see the risks of being my friends," Ichigo murmured. "I'm growing more and more uneasy, Urahara. Something's brewing and – wait a second."

"What's wrong?"

"I thought you killed that fly."

Urahara glanced at the insect buzzing about again. "Could be a different fly."

"One that's semi-squished and has only one and a half wings?"

The two swiveled on their heels and watched the erratic flight of the fly heading out the window. Ichigo frowned and said, "Of all the creepy things that I've seen, that is among the top ten."

"Let's get to the library," Urahara said. "It's not just the cat that's rising from the dead."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy edged past Xander and Cordelia, hoping that they wouldn't notice, but no luck. Xander pulled away from kissing Cordy and smiled at Buffy. "Hey. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah!" Buffy forced a smile. She gestured to the milling group about her house. "I just wanted to take a break from this fun craziness."

"I guess everyone's glad the Buffster's back," said Xander cheerfully.

Buffy nodded. "Yep, I guess. Seems like people I don't even know are glad to have me back." She paused. "Did-did Giles say that he was gonna be late?"

"Yeah. Ichigo, Urahara and Giles are gonna come together after they have more info on the zombie kitty. Don't worry, Buff, they wouldn't miss the celebration of the return of the Slayer. I mean, we're all happy, y'know?" He nudged Cordelia. "Isn't it?"

"Totally," Cordelia agreed a little too brightly. Then she turned to Xander and teased, "Except, you were kinda turning me on with the whole 'boy slayer' look."

Xander cooed, "Was I now?"

"You bet," Cordy purred and leaned in. "Nighthawk."

Completely the third wheel, Buffy sidled past the two now in heavy petting mood and headed for the kitchen. Inside, she heard Joyce and Pat talking in low tones.

"... Having Buffy home, I thought it would make it all better. But in some ways, it's worse," said Joyce.

Buffy felt a thick lump in her throat. She had thought so too, but hearing it from her own mother... She backed away and fled up the stairs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Dammit! I saw this!" shouted Giles angrily as he slammed the open book on the table. He grabbed the phone, barely acknowledging Urahara and Ichigo as they came through the swinging doors. The phone rang a couple of times before a barrage of noise barreled through the phone earpiece.

"_Party villa, can I rock ya?"_

"Uh, hello?"

"_Yeah, London-sounding guy. What can I do you for?"_

"Could you please get Buffy?" Giles tried covering his other ear in an effort to hear better. "I need to speak to Buffy!"

"_Hold on dude." _Giles vaguely made out the person shouting for Buffy, but in about ten seconds he said to Giles, _"Sorry Mr Belvedere. You've got the wrong casa."_

And he hung up.

"Hel-hello?" Giles sputtered.

Urahara tapped the Watcher's shoulder. "This is what's causing it?"

"Yes," said Giles, grabbing his coat. "It's in Joyce's bedroom. Come on. We'll take your car – it's faster."

Ichigo and Urahara followed behind at a brisk pace. Ichigo muttered, "What was Giles in Mrs Summers' bedroom?"

"Best not to wonder why," replied Urahara. He unlocked the car and they piled in.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Willow felt guilty. Buffy had tried to communicate, after all, and it wasn't fair of Willow to punish Buffy for something that Buffy wasn't even aware about. She had seen Buffy going upstairs to her room and, after some mulling, decided to follow.

When she got to Buffy's door, she saw something that made her really, really mad that she had come up.

Buffy was packing her clothes into a leather satchel.

"What are you doing?" she demanded angrily, belatedly realizing that Buffy was crying also and unable to bring herself to care. "Are you running away again? What, you forgot your lint brush and just dropped by to pick it up and now you're ready to go?"

"It's not like anyone'll mind," Buffy retorted bitterly.

"Oh, sure. Go. And don't forget to _not write_," snapped Willow. Her fingers tensed at her sides with the effort of not clenching her hands into fists.

Buffy got away from her luggage. "Why are you attacking me? I'm trying-"

"Wow, and it looked so much like giving up!"

"I'm just trying to make things easier," Buffy claimed.

Willow scoffed. "For whom?"

"You guys were coping fine without me," Buffy stated.

"We had no choice!" yelled Willow, herself shocked at having raised her voice. "We had to. Who else was going to keep the vampire population down? We didn't have much choice in the matter!"

Buffy looked at her feet. "Look, I'm sorry I had to leave, okay? You don't know what I was going through."

"Maybe I'd have liked to," declared the redhead.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Well maybe I don't need to understand," said Willow. "Maybe I just need you to talk to me."

Buffy was incensed. "Talk to me? Every time I tried you've avoided me!"

"This isn't easy, Buffy!" shouted Willow. "I know you're going though stuff but so am I!"

"Willow," Buffy began, "I know you were worried, but-"

Willow cut her off. "No! I don't just mean that. I mean my life. I have all sorts of - I'm dating, I'm having serious dating... with a werewolf, and I've been studying witchcraft and killing vampires, and you were my best friend, and I didn't have anyone to talk to about all this scary life stuff. Then you come back and you didn't even ask about me. You just worried about whether I was mad at you."

Buffy was stunned into silence, ashamed and guilty.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Giles' fingers rattled on the door irritably. "Unbelievable."

"What is?"

The librarian's voice fluttered into a falsetto. "Do you like my mask? Isn't it pretty? It raises the dead!" He snorted. "Americans!"

In the backseat, Ichigo grinned to himself. Then he suddenly yelled, "Look out!"

"Wha- Shit!" Urahara swerved when something crashed into his car. He peered out over the dash. It was someone in a suit, and he wasn't getting up. "Oh gods, did I kill him?"

"Urahara, _drive_!" screamed Ichigo.

The blond, startled, glanced around and saw zombies swarming his car, their decayed hands grappling and clawing at the windows.

Giles jabbed Urahara in the ribs and said, "Go!"

The suited man he had knocked down was on his feet again, and from the appearance that was not a recently departed member of the human race. Urahara slammed down on his accelerator and knocked it down again as he roared down to Revello Drive.

"They're heading for the mask," Giles explained. "We have to destroy it before any of the zombies put it on!"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Joyce felt a little overwhelmed by the crush of teenagers in her home. As Pat had promised to watch over her house for a moment, Joyce thought it would be better for her to go upstairs and freshen up a little before returning downstairs. At the top of the flight of steps she heard an argument from Buffy's room.

"...how much I missed you, and everyone! I wanted to call every day-"

"It doesn't matter, Buffy! It still doesn't make it okay that you didn't!" That had to be Willow.

Joyce, drawn by the voices, came to her daughter's room, where she saw Buffy and Willow in mid-quarrel, and behind Buffy was a half-packed bag.

Forget discretion. Joyce Summers marched into the room. "What's this?" she asked harshly. "This is a joke, right?"

"Mom - can you just - Willow and I are talking-"

"No I can't _just_!" Joyce pointed to the bag. "What is this, Buffy?"

Willow crossed her arms and said, "She's leaving again."

"No, I'm not- I wasn't... I'm not sure what-" Bewildered and feeling trapped, Buffy could feel tears welling up once more. "I don't know what I'm doing-" She pushed her way past them and ran down the stairs.

Her mother and Willow followed on her heels. Joyce grabbed Buffy by the arm and turned her around. "Well you'd better be sure, young lady, and explain yourself right now! You can't just up and leave whenever you feel like it!"

Buffy struggled out of Joyce's hold and ran into the living room, heading for the door.

Mrs Summers, angered for real, shouted, "Don't you dare leave this house!" She darted forward and pulled Buffy around by her shoulders. "That's it. You and I are going to have a talk."

"Mom, please, not now, not here," pleaded Buffy, her eyes scanning the rest of the teens around her.

The party had silenced. Everyone exchanged glances, unsure of what they should do now. But Mrs Summers just got louder.

"You know what? I don't care. I don't care what your friends think of me – or you for that matter – because you put me through the wringer, Buffy." She took a deep breath. "I mean it. And I've had schnapps!"

Behind them, unnoticed, Oz put down his guitar and held out a hand to Willow who had entered the room. Cordelia and Xander got up from the couch where they had been sitting. It was an extremely uncomfortable tableau now, and some of the teenagers were edging out the door.

"Do you have any idea what it's been like?" Joyce demanded. "You can't imagine. Months of not  
>knowing. Not knowing if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere or - I don't know - living it up-"<p>

"But you told me!" screamed Buffy. "You're the one who said I should go! You said - 'if you  
>leave this house, don't come back.' You found out who I really am and you couldn't deal – remember?"<p>

Joyce was aghast. "Buffy! You didn't give me any time. You just dumped this... this thing on  
>me and expected me to get it. Well - guess what? Mom's not perfect. I handled it badly. But that doesn't give you the right to punish me by running away-"<p>

"I didn't do it to punish you," protested Buffy.

Xander stepped forward. "Well you did. You should've seen what it did to her."

"Great. Great," Buffy said. Tears were already running freely down her cheeks. "Anyone else cares to weigh in?" She saw a boy she vaguely recognized. "How about you there, by the dip?"

Jonathan paused, chip in hand, dip about to fall off the end. "Um, no thanks. I'm good."

"Maybe you don't want to hear it," Xander continued relentlessly, "but what you did was incredibly selfish and stupid."

"Okay I screwed up!" Buffy was overwhelmed and had completely lost control of her emotions. "I know it, alright? But you have no idea – you have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling-"

"Did you ever try talking to anyone?" asked Xander. He sounded angry, but beneath the anger Buffy heard the hurt that she had forgotten her friends.

"What's the point?" she shot back. "There was nothing anyone could do. I just had to deal on my own."

Xander sneered, "Yeah, and that worked out so well. You can't just bury stuff, Buffy. It'll come right back up to get you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"You mean all the dead in this town – a town with twelve cemeteries – are gonna rise and head to Buffy's house?" Ichigo was gripping the back of Urahara's headrest. "What's in her house?"

"Ovu Mobani," explained Giles. "Rather, the mask of Ovu Mobani. If any of the dead puts it on-"

"Badness?" Ichigo asked.

"Yes, it would be very bad." The Watcher grabbed at the dashboard. "It will gain the power of the – watch out – the evil eye."

Urahara scowled as he ran yet another light. "Ichigo, make sure you don't look into its eyes if it's already put on. Benihime is in the back."

"Got it. What about you?"

"I have my cane," said Urahara and risked a grin. "Giles will have my back. You be careful." Another turn and then one more street before they would get to Buffy's.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"As if I could have gone to you, Xander! You made your feelings about me and Angel perfectly clear!"

By now the Summers living room was almost vacated; the partygoers were hanging around the hallway, the kitchen and the dining room, unwilling to leave the drama playing out.

Xander was almost nose to nose with the Slayer now. "I'm sorry your honey was a demon, but most girls don't hop a Greyhound over boy troubles!"

"Time out, Xand." To Xander and Buffy's surprise, Cordelia stepped forward. "Put yourself in her shoes for a minute."

Buffy was perplexed. Was this really Cordelia?

"I'm Buffy, freak of nature, right? Naturally, I pick a freak for a boyfriend. Then, said freaky boyfriend goes on a rampage which is pretty my fault-"

"Cordelia," Buffy interjected, horrified, "get out of my shoes."

The brunette looked offended and injured. "I was just trying to help. If you haven't noticed, Buffy, no one's stepping up to give you props."

"Buffy," Willow spoke up now, "you never-"

"Please! Not you too," blurted the blonde girl. She felt like tearing her hair out, she was that frustrated.

"Let her finish," Xander said. "You at least owe her that!"

Buffy turned on him. "God, Xander! Could you stick to annoying me on your own behalf?"

"Fine. You stop acting like an idiot, I'll stop annoying you!"

"You wanna talk acting like an idiot, Nighthawk?" sneered Buffy.

Things were about to get ugly. Oz came forward, hands up between them. "Okay, stepping in. Referee guy."

"No let them go Oz," Willow exclaimed. "Talking isn't helping. We might as well try violence."

The window exploded as somebody crashed in. A sudden spate of pounding and breaking glass broke everyone out of their trance, and soon kids around the house were screaming.

"I was being sarcastic!" cried Willow as the gang took a good look at the attackers. Zombies stared at the crew with sightless eyes; some had no eyes at all to speak of.

Instinct kicked in and the team came together. Buffy tossed the fireplace poker to Xander. "Kitchen!"

"Got your back," Xander stated and dashed off with Cordelia.

Joyce had huddled behind her daughter. "Are they vampires?"

Buffy punched one in the face and then added a kick, causing it to fall over.

"Buffy, heads up!"

"Don't think so," said Buffy, and snatched the stake Willow had just thrown out of the air. She stabbed it into the attacker's chest. It didn't turn into dust. "Nope. Not a vampire."

"Buffy, we need more help!" Willow shouted from the main door where she helped Oz and Devon keep out more monsters.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"They're getting in!" yelled Cordelia.

Xander grunted. "Ya think?" He kept pounding at the zombie with the frying pan in his hand. "This sucker wobbles but doesn't fall down!"

Cordelia shrieked and smashed the nearest glass bottle – some sort of schnapps, apparently – over yet another matted half-decayed zombie climbing through the window.

"Cordy, get outta here! Go upstairs!" Xander shouted.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The front door was caving.

"No, not my guitar!" Devon called out. "Use the bass!"

"Not quite the time, is it?" asked Buffy, using Slayer strength to dislodge a persistent dead hand grabbing at Jonathan's collar. "Willow, get my mom upstairs!"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Having sprinted up the stairs Pat had no idea what to do now. The teens that had been near the kitchen were already at the front door or back door. Would she be able to get out?

Suddenly a rotting hand grabbed her from behind and Pat screamed – tried to – before she felt an inhumanly strong force reach across her neck.

She was dead before she fell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo leaped out of the backseat as soon as the car screeched to a stop, knocking down two of the zombies as a bonus. Urahara stayed inside until Ichigo had cleared the zombies from the vehicle and the two adults got out quickly.

"Go, get in there and help," Urahara urged. "Giles, you follow Ichigo."

"You're not going to be able to hold them off," warned Giles. "Your arm-"

"-can hold them off." The teacher turned a flinty eye on the Watcher. "What's your duty, Giles? Get in there and help the Slayer."

While the two darted forward, Ichigo cutting a swath through the zombies. Urahara brought up the rear, chanting under his breath. He hoped Shinji had not been bullshitting him. The chant complete, Urahara felt a tingle from his solar plexus radiating out to his right shoulder and then down his arm. When it met the stump, Urahara braced himself and shuddered when the magic flowed down into the reinforced prosthesis.

The spell flared and the former mage grinned ferociously. "Good work, Shinji." Then he clambered in, his prosthesis glowing faintly with eldritch green light.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo sliced apart the zombies at the window and helped Giles get in, and then he got in himself. There were fewer zombies than he expected; perhaps Ovu Mobani's dead-raising power diminished with distance. A dead fly would be much easier to raise than a body.

"Am I late?" he asked with a lopsided smile at Buffy. A zombie tried to interrupt and the redheaded boy lopped off the zombie's head. "Not as late as they are, of course."

"You almost missed the fun," Buffy quipped. "Pest control. Kitchen and front door."

Ichigo hefted Benihime. "Got it covered. Giles! Urahara! Secure the kitchen!"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Oh my god! Pat!" Joyce was horrified. "Help me get her into the bedroom."

Together Willow and Joyce helped pull Pat into the room, draping her over the bed. Joyce grabbed one of the golf clubs that she had intended to use over summer, while Willow plucked up another and held it like a bat. They shut the door and stared out the window, scared that there would be zombies climbing the trees.

They did not see or hear the door opening.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Barricade the door," commanded Buffy. Oz and Cordelia piled the couch and other assorted furniture against it, while Buffy peered around the hall. The kids were all in the living room now, which was clear of the zombies, thanks to Ichigo beheading them.

A scream from upstairs distracted her. Buffy's blood ran cold. "Mom?"

"Go," said Ichigo, peeking out from between the gaps to the front yard. More were lumbering down the street, some of which were teenagers that had earlier fled the party and fallen prey to the zombies. "We'll hold the line."

The Slayer ran up the stairs three at a time.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Joyce kicked in vain at the zombie holding her. Willow was whacking the zombie as hard as she could, but it was doing very little.

Buffy charged in and kicked that zombie clear to the other side of the room, tugging her mother behind her. "Mom, you okay?"

"Yes honey, I'm fine." Joyce turned and saw some movement. "Pat! You're all right!"

"No time for that!" shouted Willow as two zombies crashed in from the windows

Suddenly Xander ran in. "More coming up the street – Ichigo says we should all group in the living room."

"Maybe that's a better idea-" Joyce said, helping Pat up. "Pat, are you all right?"

Pat shoved Joyce aside and grabbed the mask on the wall. She pulled it off, ripping yet another hole in the plaster, and put it on.

There was a glaring red flash and the zombies that were attacking Buffy and Willow fell to their knees.

"Not good," said Willow, backing away.

Joyce scrambled to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"Generally, when scary things get scared? Not good," Xander explained.

The Slayer took a stance and squared her shoulders. "All right, Pat or whatever you are. Leave my friends and my mom alone and face me-"

Another red flash caught Buffy straight in the face, immobilizing her. The thing that had been Pat growled and took a step towards Willow. Before it reached her she was tackled to the ground. Xander rolled out of the way before it could attack. Buffy, freed from the immobilizing effect, grabbed the dead woman from behind and threw her with as much force as she could out the broken window. She dived after it, remembering to tuck and roll, and covered her eyes with her arm.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

They heard the thud, then the roar, and when Xander barreled down the stairs to the back, Giles figured it out.

"Did you tell her?" Giles said, jabbing at yet another half-rotted arm trying to claw its way into the barricaded house.

"Tell her what?" Ichigo asked.

"To avoid Ovu Mobani's eyes!"

Ichigo paled. "I forgot!"

"Get to it then!"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy tried to grope for the tool which she had carelessly left in the backyard – she had never been that neat – but it was tough trying to get to it knowing that she might be reaching for the monster instead.

When she heard a roar she knew she was too close to the masked zombie and rolled to the side. Thank goodness for traditional zombie stupidity. A vampire would have waited for her to get to it before sucking her blood dry. Her hand came upon a pole, slightly damp, and reassuringly heavy. She grabbed it and rolled to her feet, keeping her eyes shut, the balance of the implement telling her where the sharp end was.

"Buffy, don't look into its ey-" That sounded like Ichigo.

She risked opening one eye and stared at the ground when a red flash startled her. It wasn't looking at her, thankfully, and was instead stalking towards frozen Ichigo.

"Hey Pat!" Buffy called out.

The zombie Pat turned around.

Buffy shoved the business end of a shovel into her eyes. "Made you look."

The spell thus dispersed, Ichigo stumbled forward. "Okay. Never mind."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The gang gathered in the living room. The rest of the kids had dispersed by then, Devon and his band staying only long enough to grab their gear.

"Hey. Good work," said Buffy to Xander.

The tall teenage boy shrugged and smiled. "Nice reflexes."

Willow hugged Buffy and then Joyce joined in.

"So, is that a typical day at the office?" asked Mrs Summers.

Buffy grinned. "Nah. That was nothing."

"You know," said Urahara. "I'm famished. Should we send out for pizza?"

Giles sighed and pushed his hair back. "Hear hear."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"You actually levitate things now?" asked Buffy, sipping on an iced peach smoothie.

"Only for a couple of seconds," Willow demurred. "But I tried to channel the spirits, and I so wasn't ready for that. Plus, I blew the power for the block. Big scare. And then Urahara figured it out and, um, lectured me about responsible use of power and so on."

"Eeps. Is he as bad as Giles?"

Willow winced. "Kinda on an equal footing there. Oh, and I tried summoning the four elements. I can only do two, and I kinda set my bedspread on fire which I'll never do again."

"I wish I had been there for you," said Buffy.

Willow smiled. "It's okay. Really, I understand you having to bail and I can forgive that. I have to make allowances for what you're going through and just be a grown up about it."

Buffy paused. Then she grinned. "You're really enjoying this moral superiority thing."

"It's like a drug!" Willow agreed cheerfully.

"Fine," said Buffy with a resigned air. "I'm with the bad. I can take my lumps." She mock glared at her best friend. "For now."

"No, you're right. I'll stop." Willow sipped her mocha and muttered, "Runaway."

"Willow!"

"I'm sorry." The redhead smiled. "Quitter."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Whiner."

"Bailer."

"Harpy."

"Delinquent."

"Tramp."

"Bad seed."

"Witch."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The door opened. Principal Snyder barely looked up as Urahara and Giles entered together.

"Do we have an appointment?" he inquired, barely civil.

Giles glanced at Urahara, who shrugged and smiled calmly. The librarian adjusted his glasses and said, "We just thought that we'd like to discuss a matter with you."

"If that matter is Buffy Summers, than all I have for you are two words. Good. Riddance." The principal smirked coldly and took up his coat. "Now if you don't mind, I have a meeting with the Mayor."

Urahara stepped neatly in front of the door. "You have no grounds for expelling Buffy Summers."

"I have grounds, I have precedence, and I have a tingly feeling."

"It won't hold." Giles had come to Snyder's right side. "Buffy is a minor and is entitled to a public education. Your personal distaste does not legally allow you to run roughshod over her future."

Snyder was not intimidated. "Why don't you take it up to the city council?"

"We thought we'd start with the state Supreme Court," said Urahara, the calm smile not wavering.

Giles had the same unperturbed expression. "You may have some influence in local circles, but I believe I can make life very difficult for you. Professionally speaking, of course."

For a beat Urahara and Giles thought the principal had caved. Then Snyder smirked. "Sorry. Not convinced." He stared at Urahara. "Get away from the door."

The small man moved. Giles and Urahara were faster, both of them restraining Snyder by his shoulders without using any apparent force.

"Would you like us to convince you?" asked Giles softly.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Should I tell them?" Ichigo asked over dinner.

Urahara chewed and swallowed. "Ichigo." He sighed. "Ichigo, telling them may mean the end of your friendship."

Ichigo's voice was soft and sad. "I know. But they should." He breathed out slowly and clasped his hands together. "You saw what happened. If I try to keep my past buried, something's gonna come from it and hurt them. At least they're forewarned, you know?"

Urahara reached his left hand over and covered Ichigo's hands. "Whatever happens, I'm here."

"I know." Ichigo smiled at the blond. "You've always been here for me." The smile turned wistful. "I just didn't see it."

Urahara just held on tighter.


	3. Faith, Hope, Trick and Archer

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Faith, Hope, Trick & Archer**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Willow took a deep breath. "I'm giddy."

Oz, beside her, shrugged. "Like you giddy. Always have."

"It's the freedom," the redheaded girl continued, "As Seniors we can go off campus now for lunch. It's no longer cutting, it's legal. Heck, it's expected! But also a big step forward, a Senior Moment..."

Over his shoulder, Oz caught sight of Xander and Ichigo, who both nodded in understanding.

"...one that has to be savored fully before – ooo!" Willow felt herself lifted by the arms and carried across the curb and then let down gently on the street opposite. Oz and Xander kept their holds on Willow, while Ichigo escorted the ever-lovely Cordelia across the street.

Willow was still freaking out. "I can't!"

"You can," reassured Ichigo who had caught up.

"See? You are," added Oz.

"But... what if they changed the rule without telling?" Willow blustered. "What if they're laying in wait just so they can arrest me and put me in detention and mar my unblemished record?"

Xander tightened his grip slightly. "Breathe."

Willow breathed. Then she exhaled. "Okay. You can put me down." She linked arms with Oz and brightened up. 'Better now. Wow. We're seniors. Hey, we're walkin' here!"

Ichigo returned Cordelia to Xander and indicated to the figure under the shade of a tree. "Maybe you four shouldn't be too couply around Buffy."

"Oh, you mean 'cause of how the only guy that ever liked her turned into a vicious killer and had to be put down like a dog?" asked Cordelia, all polite concern.  
>"Can she cram complex issues into a nutshell or what?" Xander was absurdly proud and beamed at her adoringly.<p>

Oz patted Willow's hand and said, "Prepare to uncouple... uncouple."

They released their significant others, while Ichigo sauntered ahead to greet Buffy who was there with a picnic basket.

"Buffy," greeted Xander, planting himself next to the Slayer. "Banned from campus but not from our hearts, how are you and what's for lunch?"

Ichigo flicked off the paper towels covering the dishes and whistled in appreciation. "When did you become Martha Stewart?"

Buffy passed around the plastic cutlery and they dug into the cold cuts and pasta salad that the blonde had prepared. "First of all, Martha knows nothing about hand-cut prosciutto."

"I don't think she knows how to slay either," Ichigo pointed out.

"I hear she does, but she doesn't like it," Oz corrected absently.

With a smile Buffy continued, "Secondly, I've had way too much time on my hands since I got kicked out of school."

"You'll be let back in, I know it," Willow said loyally, the effect slightly ruined by a dab of Thousand Island on her chin. Oz swiped it off and licked it.

"I guess. It's just a little worrying that's all..."

"Scott Hope at eleven o'clock," Willow interrupted her friend. As Buffy peered over, Willow added, "He likes you; he wanted to ask you out last year, you weren't ready then, but I think you're ready now - or at least in a state of pre-readiness that would allow you to make conversation or do that thing with your mouth that boys like-"

Ichigo coughed and stared at Willow, aghast.

The girl seemed to catch on that it might not be the best way to phrase her idea and tried to explain, "I don't mean a bad thing with your mouth, I mean that sort of half smile that you do and-" She paused, then glared at her boyfriend. "You're supposed to stop me when I do that."

"I like when you do that," said the musician blandly.

As the two gazed in an adoring manner at each other, Scott Hope walked past and then nodded rather shyly at the small cluster. "Hey."

"Hey," said the Slayer. Scott Hope went on his way.

Ichigo grinned. "That went well."

"It did! It went very well. Don't you think that went well? I think that went very well," Willow gushed.

Cordy sipped her Coke. "He didn't try to maim or kill us. It's a positive step."

"Did you do the half smile?" Willow asked.

Buffy glanced askance at Cordelia's unbridled approval. "I'm not trying to snare Scott Hope. I just want my normal life back. Do normal stuff."

"Like date..." Ichigo interjected.

Buffy frowned.

"Oh, you wanna date." Xander chuckled. "I saw you do the half-smile, you little tramp."

The blonde glared and punched Xander on his arms. The boy laughed and then winced as the impact of a Slayer punch got through to his brain. "Ow."

"Yes!" Buffy paid him no mind though. "Yes! I wanna date, and shop, and slay, and go to school, and hang out, and save the world from unspeakable demons. You know, everyday teenage girl stuff."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"The limo driver has just picked up our passenger from the docks," Nanao commented to the two older vampires. Aizen and Gin exchanged a look. Nanao checked her slim Rolex. "They'll be here in twenty minutes at the latest."

"Good," Gin said. He ambled over to the wide windows and tweaked it aside slightly, careful to stay out of the beam of fading evening light that invaded the study. "It's time we clear the stage of the secondary characters, wouldn't you say, taishou?"

Aizen folded his reading glasses back in their case and strolled over to Gin, flicking the curtains back in place. "He will be an asset."

"But father," Nanao began, "what if he's just dissembling? He could be spying for the other side."

Aizen looked at his childe and smiled genially. "My dear Nanao-chan, trust that your sires have thought of everything."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The burger joint was practically deserted at this time of night. Still, Emmett Kirby was aware that service with a smile was needed. It usually ended with a large tip if people thought you were friendly. The drive-through intercom buzzed and Emmett hurried over. There was only one other employee at that time of night working the counter and she was always complaining about the manager. As if the manager was interested in a fifty-year-old woman with a mustache that could rival the always excellent Burt Reynolds.

Emmett clicked on the microphone. "Hello! Welcome to Happy Burger! May I take your order?"

"Hey there. I just want a large coke." The voice was a smooth one, and sounded pretty sane.

Emmett had encountered his share of nutjobs on the night shift, but this sounded like a proper gentleman and a big tipper. "Certainly, sir! Please drive up to the window to take your order."

In two minutes a beautiful white limo rolled up and the tinted window descended. It was a pleasant-looking African-American. Emmett smiled widely and the man smiled right back, his teeth very white against his dark skin. The payment was made and Emmett was told to keep the change.

A large tipper indeed – he gave a twenty for the drink.

"Have a nice night, sir," said Emmett.

"Right back atcha," said the customer.

Someone on the far side of the car said something, and then the nice-sounding man reared out, grabbed Emmett, and dragged him half into the car.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Angel's voice was soft, regretful. "I loved you."

"I miss you," said Buffy. She tried to touch Angel's face, but he ducked away. She bit her lower lip and said, "I'm sorry."

"GO TO HELL!" Angel roared at her.

Buffy stumbled back in shock.

Angel's face was rotting and decayed. He bared his teeth in a cruel sneer. "I did."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy jerked awake, then collapsed against her bed. A deep breath; another; and finally she could close her eyes again and wish herself into dreamless sleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The Bronze was jumping and Buffy wound her way through the crowd, seeming quite smug.

"I'm back in school," she announced, setting down three cups and picking out her own coffee. "And though I know I'll be whining about it in three months' time, let it be said that I'm really happy about it. Oh, and I passed my English make-up exam."

Oz shrugged with one shoulder. "Never doubted."

"It's great that you're back in school," the redheaded girl remarked. "And we can hang out in the library again!"

"So you can tell Giles about his angry clucking sound?" teased Buffy. They had been caught commenting on Giles' odd habit, and Willow had been mortified. Giles hadn't remarked on the girls' conversation, but he had looked at them both askance. It was however the librarian's query about Angel's demise that had shaken Buffy. Still she had answered him. Not the entire truth – not the part when Angel had looked at Buffy, _Angel_, not Angelus, and they had kissed, and she sent him into hell – okay, so not even a partial truth.

Another familiar face wound its way out of the crowd and planted himself on the seat next to Buffy. "I heard about the English. Good on ya." Ichigo peered over the selection of beverages. "Nothing for me?"

"Couldn't find you in that mass of teen hormones," chirruped Buffy brightly. "What do you want? I can go get it-"

"Nah, it's fine, I'll just steal a sip from yours." Just as Ichigo directed Buffy's coffee to his lips the blonde girl tensed.

Willow said cheerfully, "Hi Scott!"

"Uh, hi," Buffy echoed, before her gaze darted shyly down.

Ichigo caught the look in Scott Hope's eyes, and released Buffy's hand and coffee. "Hi Scott. Waiting for someone?"

Willow waved her hands distractedly. "No! No of course this is an entirely coincidental meeting."

"Actually, she told me that you guys would be here around eight and that I should show." Scott's smile was quite endearing, Ichigo thought. _If only... Never mind that now. _Scott shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not a good liar. I get all blotchy and then I have to bail. It's not pretty."

_Oh but you so are,_ Ichigo's mind supplied and he sternly told his mind to cut it out. It was evident that Scott liked Buffy, and Buffy maybe-sorta-could-perhaps like Scott. It would help her get over Angel too. To extricate himself from a potential crush situation, Ichigo stood up again and declared that he was grabbing a Coke from the counter. Scott seemed relieved that Ichigo was leaving, but was that jealousy or curiosity that flashed in those pretty brown eyes?

As he navigated through the crowd the music changed to a thumping, rousing beat. Cordelia and Xander were leaving the dance floor and paused by Ichigo.

"You two want any drinks?" asked Ichigo.

Xander smirked. "Nah, I'm good." He nuzzled Cordelia who rolled her eyes but put up with it. "Cordy?"

"A soda will do," she said acidly. She turned to Xander and complained about the slut that was monopolizing the floor tonight and the couple headed to the seats. Ichigo shook his head. They did seem to be getting on well despite their apparent differences.

At the counter he placed his orders and waited. Scanning the crowd, he sensed that there was a vampire in the building – as always – and he would need to inform Buffy.

"Hiya."

Ichigo glanced at the sultry girl on his left. She wore a cleavage baring tank top with an interesting choker, and her doe eyes were dark with promises. She let her lips curl seductively. "Come often?"

"You're not looking for me, miss," said Ichigo with a kind if patronizing smile.

She leaned in closer, giving him an eyeful. "I can change that."

"Seriously, I doubt you can," replied the redhead. Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Trust me on this." The drinks arrived and he waltzed off.

When he got back to the sofa he saw that Scott had retreated to the other side of the room. He frowned faintly. "Turned him down?"

"Not really. Just giving a comfortable space for them both," said Xander.

Cordelia accepted her soda with a thanks and then scowled at the dance floor again. "That's the Slut-O-Rama I was talking about, with Disco Dave."

The gang peered over and both Buffy and Ichigo frowned. Cordelia continued, "When's the last time that guy danced to anything but KC and the Sunshine Band?"

"I don't think that guy has seen sunshine for some time," Buffy said quietly. She exchanged a glance with Ichigo. The redheaded boy narrowed his eyes at the brunette on the dance floor – she seemed oblivious to the danger she faced.

_Vampire._

The vampire, seeming to sense that he was now revealed, whispered something to the girl and they sashayed out the back door.

"Come on." Buffy grabbed a stake and slipped it up her coat sleeve. The rest of the gang followed, Ichigo right behind the Slayer. When they were almost to the back door, they saw Scott Hope and his face brightened. Then the expression fell when he saw that it was the whole gang. Buffy suddenly realized what it must have looked like to the boy and blustered, "Oh, no, I'm – this isn't a good time, but I swear I would've, um-"

"Buffy, now?" Ichigo cocked his head at the back door and tugged on her sleeve. _Oh goodness, that kicked-puppy look is just too darn cute. If he wasn't already gunning for the Buffster I'd try my luck.._

The Scooby Gang burst out the back door and paused. Then the sounds of a scuffle – too familiar to the six of them – emerged from their right and they rushed over, expecting to have to rescue a damsel in distress.

What they got was the girl kicking the crap out of the vampire. She straightened and grinned at the group. "Hey." Then she noticed the Slayer holding her stake. "You must be Buffy. I'm Faith. Mind if I borrow that?"

Before Buffy could reply the brunette had plucked the stake out of her hands and dusted the vampire behind. Then she flipped the weapon back to Buffy and flashed a megawatt smile again. "Thanks, B. Couldn't do it without ya."

She sauntered back into the Bronze. The gang exchanged baffled looks.

Oz was the first to put a word to the situation. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that we've a new Slayer in town."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"...so the pastor is hugging me and I'm without a stitch on, stark nude, and then the police show up," the new Slayer, Faith, finished her story with a flourish which narrowly missed Willow's head.

"They should film that story and show it every Christmas." Xander was all ears, completely disregarding the venomous glares burrowing into the back of his brain courtesy of Cordelia Chase. "Do you have any more stories?"

"God I could eat a horse! Ain't it strange how slaying always makes you hungry and horny?" asked the dark-haired girl innocently.

Everyone stared at Buffy. The Slayer shifted uncomfortably. "I-I sometimes crave a nonfat yogurt afterward..."

"I get it." Cordelia's remark earned her the undivided attention of the gang. She scowled. "Not the horny thing – yuck – but the two Slayers thing. Buffy died for like, two minutes, so Kendra was called, and now that Kendra died Faith is called."

Faith nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"But why were you called here?" asked Ichigo.

"I wasn't. My watcher got called up to some retreat back in England so I figured, why not skip over and meet the infamous Buff, exchange notes an' all." She peered at the blonde. "Didja really use a rocket launcher one time?"

"Yes, actually, um I was-"

"Now you said you had an alligator story," interrupted Xander eagerly.

"Well, that belonged to a big daddy vamp back in Missouri. I'm telling ya, I never had more trouble than that one. He kept them as pets. So he caught me and tossed me into his alligator pit, and I was wrestling with this huge mother-"

"-and was this also naked?" asked Xander.

"Well," replied Faith coyly, "the alligator was."

"Xander, find a new theme," snapped Cordy, clearly exasperated.

"Really." Ichigo leaned back in his seat and took a long sip of his drink. Scott Hope had disappeared; shame. All that sad-eyed longing was kind of amusing.

Apparently Buffy noticed as well and was glancing about the room.

Faith cocked her head. "So. Which was your hardest kill?"

"Hmm?" Buffy's gaze was suddenly haunted. "Th-they're all hard in their way I guess. Oh, but do you guys remember the Three? But you've never met the Three. Anyway they were-"

"-I'm wondering about your position on werewolves," Oz cut in uncharacteristically.

Willow announced brightly, "Oz is a werewolf!" with the tone one usually reserved for announcing that one's offspring was a valedictorian.

"Long story," Ichigo supplied.

"Got bit," Oz said.

"Apparently not that long." Ichigo snagged a fry.

The brunette shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't bite me or hump my leg, we're five by five."

Oz nodded in silent agreement.

"Say, B. We can really do some damage on the vampires these couple days, you and I two, Watcher-less and fancy-free." Faith munched on a fry.

"Watcher-less?" Buffy repeated dumbly.

Faith frowned and asked, "Didn't your Watcher go on a retreat too?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Aizen knocked on the door of the guest room. A soft voice inside called out for him to come in.

"How are the facilities?" asked Aizen pleasantly.

The young man adjusted his glasses and regarded the vampire lord for a moment just too long of politeness. "It suits my purposes. Sir."

Aizen took a seat at the dresser. It was his home after all. "Should we talk terms of engagement now?"

"Certainly." The young man turned and faced the vampire. "You know I do not accept contracts on assassination or attacks on the helpless."

"Would you consider Tsukiyomi's avatar helpless?"

"Depends on how old he or she is."

"He's almost eighteen, almost an adult." Aizen smiled. "Would that be acceptable?"

The young male's lips twitched. "Perhaps. I will observe."

"And the payment?"

"Should I find him acceptable, then his demise would be the payment. Of course my room and board would be subsidized by you, and any further requirements of my services would be negotiated accordingly." For all his youth the man seemed a world-weary mercenary. In appearance he was a slender, almost skinny young man, his angular glasses framing sharp and fierce eyes.

Aizen did not know if he liked the contract, or the person himself, but the terms were acceptable and he knew Kurosaki Ichigo would be a more than ideal target. He stretched out his hand and said, "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Archer. Or can I call you by your first name?"

"No one calls me by my first name except my parents, and they are dead. You may drop the 'Mr', however." Archer shook the vampire's hand perfunctorily. "I will acquaint myself with the town tomorrow."

"My children can accompany you."

"They will draw needless attention to me," countered Archer. "I can take care of myself quite well, thank you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Gin lounged against the wall, looking delightfully disheveled. "Has he settled in?"

"He's icier than Ulquiorra," remarked Aizen, knowing that his guest could hear them. "But he'll do the job."

"This should be fun." Gin slipped his hands into his pockets. "I can't believe we called in Quincy Archer for Kurosaki Ichigo. This had better be worth our time."

Aizen smiled crookedly. "That would be Mister Archer to you, Kitsune. Come, let us go."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"A new Slayer? That's interesting." Urahara was testing his fine motor skills on buttons and buttonholes, and had thus far torn up five shirts, all warehouse discards. "I suppose that was because of Kendra's death."

"Yeah, I guess," said Ichigo. "She said something about being Watcher-less because he had gone to England for a retreat. Wouldn't they have asked Giles?"

Urahara shrugged and winced in intense concentration as he 'thought' into his actions, the fingers on his right 'hand' carefully nudging the plastic disc into the buttonhole. "I suppose they think that Buffy needs her Watcher with her... Crud."

"What?"

"I broke the button." Urahara looked peeved and he glared reprovingly at Ichigo when the teen laughed. "Thank you for the support, Ichigo."

"Well, I'll get you more buttons and buttonholes tomorrow." Ichigo grinned and then stretched. "I'm gonna turn in. You want me to save your current shirt or are you sleeping in it?"

Urahara looked down at his crisp blue shirt and sighed. "I can't sleep in this, it'll get wrinkled."

And that would mean Ichigo yet again helping Urahara remove his clothes and tomorrow morning, helping him put his clothes on. Ichigo felt hot just thinking about it and chose to put aside his feelings.

As he unbuttoned the shirt – Urahara only had shirts, not even polo tees, the Lord knows why – Ichigo fantasized briefly about running his hands over the exposed chest, pale but lean-muscled, about looping his arm about the trim waist and cording his fingers into messy blond hair...

"Ichigo, are you alright?" asked Urahara with some concern. Ichigo had been holding the shirt for a minute without any further motion.

Ichigo blinked. "Uh, sure. Sure I am." He quickly busied himself with removing the garment and then retreating to his own room. At least Urahara could brush his own teeth now and handle the more delicate aspects of his own hygiene.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Giles piled the books according to call number and strode out of the office. Buffy and Faith were at the counter, while Willow, Xander, Ichigo and Urahara were ranged around the table. The Physics teacher nursed a coffee, holding the mug with his right hand. The good thing about the prosthesis was that it did not feel the heat.

"Yes, every year there is a Watchers' retreat in the Cotswalds. A lovely spot, very serene. They have horseback riding, fishing, lectures, seminars..." said Giles. A hint of irritation crept into his voice as he continued, "Or so I am told."

"Ah, it's boring," remarked Faith. "Way too stuffy for a guy like you."

Buffy glanced from Slayer to Watcher. "Uh, maybe I wasn't clear enough with the intros. Faith, this is Giles."

"I seen him. If I'd known they came this young and cute I'd have requested for a transfer." Faith glanced at Urahara. "Or maybe I'll settle for _him_."

Urahara almost choked on his morning coffee, and yelped when his concentration faltered and his right hand let go of the cup. Ichigo leaped up and rushed to help, and the commotion caused by the two Japanese momentarily distracted the group from Faith's almost-flirting with Giles.

"Leaving aside the issue of my youth and beauty and Urahara's suitability as my substitute," said Giles hastily, a little pink around his ears, "the fortuitous fact that Faith is here certainly adds a panache to our operations."

"Aha!" Willow's outburst startled the others; Ichigo was mopping up the coffee stains on the floor and knocked his head on the table. "Ooh, sorry Ichigo. I meant, Aha! You'll never feel bored here, Faith, cos this is the home of the big brewin' evil."

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know how big or... brewing... this evil is, but three persons have disappeared in Sunset Ridge last night. One of them was pulled from a fast food drive-through window."

"I'm good to patrol," Buffy commented. "Late-ish though. I promised dinner with mom."

The gang looked at the Slayer expectantly and Buffy forced a smile at Faith. "To which you're invited, of course."

"Dyin' to meet the fam. I'm in." Faith stuck her hands in her pockets.

Buffy looked anything but thrilled. "Great. Then we'll patrol. Also together."

"We'll hunt them down and stake 'em where they stand!" Faith mimed a punch to an imaginary foe's gut and grunted.

Ichigo frowned "That's vaguely disturbing."

"Sorry for your sensibilities, sugar," teased Faith. "Want me to make it better?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Don't even."

"Your loss."

The first bell rang and the teens got up. Urahara hurriedly gulped down the remains of his coffee and dashed off.

Willow chirped, "Don't you have that make-up test you gotta take, Buffy?"

"Yeah, I could use some tutoring-"

"-so we'll keep Faith company, show her around while Buffy's testing," Willow blithely went on, ignoring her best friend's forlorn expression.

Xander agreed happily. "Yeah, and you can bring your stories!"

"Sure!" To Giles, Faith called out, "You. Later on. We'll talk weapons."

"Fine. Fine, I'll just – sit." Buffy sat.

Ichigo tapped the blonde Slayer's shoulder. "I'd tutor you but I have math. See you at lunch? Good luck."

Giles came over when the three exited, chattering excitedly, and Ichigo left a lot less noisily than the rest. "She's certainly full of zest."

"She sure is."

Paying heed to Buffy's sulky face, Giles diverted the topic and said, "I've discovered problem with the ritual binding for Acathla. I seem to be lacking the requisite details to perform it correctly. The physical location – Acathla was facing south..."

"Yeah. Acathla was here," she grabbed Urahara's mug, "Angel was here, and I was here, and" a pencil subbed for the role, "stab."

"Yes, but-"

"Giles, I have a test to prepare for, a zesty new slayer to feed, and missing people at Sunset Ridge to worry about. The next time I kill Angel I'll video it, alright?"

The library doors could not be slammed but her stormy exit more than expressed the effect. He sighed and put away the books. Another day, another attempt, and why did Faith's appearance in Sunnydale ring a large bell of suspicion?

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Willow pointed to the left. "And here we have the cafeteria, where we were mauled by snakes..."

"This is the spot where Angel tried to kill Willow," Xander added, not to be outdone.

"Over there in the lounge is where Spike and his gang nearly massacred us all on parent-teacher night." Willow indicated the area and then flapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, and up those stairs, I was sucked into a muddy grave."

Xander tucked his hands into his pockets. "They say young people don't learn anything in high school nowadays, but I've learned to be afraid."

The dark-haired Slayer chuckled. "You guys are a hoot 'n a half. If I'd had friends like you in high school," she hesitated for a beat, shrugged and said, "I'd've still dropped out but I mighta been sad about it."

They looked around the nondescript high school. Some other students were milling around, waiting for their next lesson, some checking out Faith while some girls scowled at her from a safe distance.

Faith seemed unaffected by the staring. "What's up with B? She seems wound kinda tight – needs to find the fun a little, like you two. Oh, water." She headed for the water fountain.

Xander called out, "Then the alligator story!" As he continued watching her, he said, "She's got something, doesn't she?"

"What is it with you and slayers?" snapped Cordelia, her sudden appearance startling Xander. She snarled, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe I should dress up like one and hold a stake to your throat."

Xander regarded his girlfriend hungrily and said, "Please, God, don't let that be sarcasm."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Excuse me," said the boy who almost collided with Faith.

The girl smiled. "Sorry. Hey, I seen you before."

"At the Bronze? You're friends with Buffy, right?" The boy appeared marginally more cheerful.

"Yeah, I'm Faith."

"Scott, nice to meet you."

At that moment Buffy jogged down the stairs and came up to her friends. She looked proud. "I'm two for two with the make-up tests. Proud, yes, but also humble in this time of – What are we looking at?"

Cordelia barely bothered to hide her scorn. "Does anyone believe that's her actual hair color?"

At the water fountain, Scott and Faith were laughing. Buffy stamped down on her spurt of indignant anger.  
>"Boy I haven't seen him laugh like that... maybe Faith and Scott could hit it off. I mean, if you're done with him," said Willow, trailing off when she saw Buffy's glare, "- not that you used him or anything."<p>

"I hadn't definitely, one hundred per cent said no to him for all time... It's just, you don't enter into these things lightly, there's repercussions to consider and..." the Slayer shifted from foot to foot when she noticed Willow and Xander exchange a knowing glance. "Why am I seeing a look?"

"You really do need to find the fun a little, B-uffy." Willow coughed to hide her faux pas.  
>Irritated, Buffy walked over to the water fountain.<p>

Scott, seeing that Buffy had come over to join them, said, "Buffy, Faith is telling me tall tales."

"She's funny," growled Buffy. "And leaving. We have to go."

"Oh." Scott had a crestfallen look on his face again. "Nice talking to you."

"Likewise," Faith agreed, and as she and Buffy moved off she asked, "Cute guy. He seeing anybody?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Mister Trick... Talk to me." The vampire seated in the shadows inhaled the incense curling around him. He was Kakistos.

The vampire known as Mr Trick, a snappily-dressed vampire with very bright eyes tilted his head as he acknowledged the order. "Check it out. This town – this very street - wired for fiber optics. We  
>jack in a T-3, 2500 megs per, we got the whole world at our fingertips." He waved away the vampire lackey that tried to perfume him with incense. "Rick, allergies. What I'm sayin' is, we stay local – where the humans are jumpin' and the cotton is high - but we live global: you got a hankering for the blood of a fifteen year old Filipina? I'm on the net, she's here the next day, express air."<p>

He had heard that another vampire crew in this town lived the same way, but in better digs; he hoped that the news would filter through to his boss soon, because he was sick of living in sub-par shelter. _Even evil has standards. Who's to say that the Devil ain't got fancy furniture? All them architects and fashion designers gotta be burning down there._

"I want the blood of the Slayer," snapped Kakistos.

_Here goes. _Mr Trick braced himself and said, "On that front, good news and bad – rumor is this town already has a slayer, which makes two, I'm not sure how that happens-"

"I don't care if there's a hundred slayers!" roared the vampire in the shadows.

Kakistos moved into the dim light. His useless eye, milky and dead-white, seemed to be burning with fury. A hand – if a cloven hoof-like appendage could be called a hand – traced the wide, jagged scar along his face. Mr Trick took a step back, wary and nervous.

"I'll kill them all! SHE'S GOING TO PAY FOR WHAT SHE DID TO ME!" he bellowed, the force of the outburst seeming to send the building rumbling.

The other, younger vampire shivered. Best that the rage never turn towards him. He pointed at the lit-up screen before him. "Yes she is. I'm running a computer check on every hotel, rooming house  
>and youth hostel in town. She's gotta leave tracks, and we'll get her."<p>

A knock on the door interrupted him. Mr Trick pulled on the long protective glove and sauntered to the door with a casualness he did not feel.

"Meanwhile, soon as the sun's down," he said, "we're out in force."

Then he opened the door.

A boy in a stupid hat and a tacky uniform peered into the gloom. "You guys order lunch?"

Behind the door Trick smiled. "Yes we did."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"There's someone looking for a girl," Nanao announced with no preamble.

Hisagi looked up from the video game he was currently playing and beating Kira at. "Something special about this girl?"

"Dark-haired, average height, trouble-maker. Goes by the names of Faith or F. Lehane, or just FL." Nanao shrugged eloquently and took a seat on the arm of the sofa.

Kira scoffed. "She must not have been on the run for long. Not even bothering to change her name is the true sign of the amateur."

"She also happens to be a Slayer." The unfamiliar, clipped tones made the three vamps look at the stairway. The thin young man – of mixed heritage, perhaps; there was a hint of the Far East in the set of his eyes and the glossiness of his black hair – was not awed by the predatory intent of the vampires.

Kira set down his controller, letting his character die. Hisagi followed suit and slipped off the sofa into a half-crouch, his shoulder near Kira. The blond smiled unpleasantly, showing his canines. "And who might you be?"

"I am a guest of the house," said the boy. "And I wish to have lunch. Where may I find food?"

Kira licked his lower lip slowly. "In this house, you _are_ lunch."

Before any of them could launch an attack, Aizen walked down the steps. He raised an eyebrow at his younger three and they settled back. Turning to the young man, he said, "I'm sorry. I have yet to apprise them of your presence."

"I could tell," the human said icily. "If there is no food suitable for me, I shall go out. It's time to explore Sunnydale."

Aizen nodded amiably. "Certainly. Would you need a car?"

"The cars you have are all too ostentatious. I will walk." The youth strolled past the three vampires on the couch and out the door, carefully shutting it with barely a click.

Kira narrowed his blue eyes and drawled, "Would anyone take it amiss should I accidentally snap that lovely white neck?"

"I would," replied Aizen. He regarded the trio. "He's Quincy Archer, sent by Jason Stark, and he is here to help us with our shinigami problem."

"And why would that stuck-up human do that?" Kira asked.

"The shinigami killed his family," said Aizen, coming up to Kira now and brushing his knuckles over the blond's cheek. "He cannot assault them in Japan which is their stronghold, but here... Here, they are fair game." He then turned his gaze on Nanao. "Nanao, darling. You mentioned something about a girl?"

"Yes," said Nanao quickly. "Faith Lehane. That – Archer – said that she was a Slayer. I suppose she is here to replace the fallen Slayer?"

Hisagi stood up and stretched. "Do we have to hunt?"

"Not yet," Aizen remarked. "If she comes to town, she is here for something. Find out what that is. If she's here to help Kurosaki Ichigo and Buffy Summers, then by all means kill her. If she's here for other reasons, let me know. And then we'll decide whether to kill her or not."

Kira smiled and nibbled his lower lip. "What about Archer?"

"When he's outlived his usefulness, you mean?" Aizen chuckled warmly and ruffled Kira's hair with affection. "If he's dumb enough to come back to us afterward, feel free."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"So, you're a Slayer too?" asked Joyce, handing a bowl of chips over to Faith, who took it and scooped out prodigious handfuls. "Isn't that interesting. Do you like being a Slayer?"

"Mm-hmm," the brunette answered. The girl ate a lot – and still appeared hungry – and she was holding all of Joyce Summers' attention.

Buffy tried to get the bowl. "Uh, Mom?"

"In a moment, honey. What's it like, fighting vampires?" Joyce propped her chin in her hands.

Faith grinned toothily and fished out some sugar peas from another plate. "It's the best feeling in the world. Cause when I fight, it's like, I know I'm gonna win and they're gonna lose. And that is an _awesome_ rush."

Buffy gave up and stood to get to the chips on the other side of the table. Her mother hardly noticed.

Joyce nodded. "Right, right. Buffy never talks like that."

"Yeah, well, it's because I'm focusing on not getting the feeling that I'm dead and the world's gonna end," snapped the blonde girl. Her fork stabbed unhappily at some innocent carrots.

Faith gestured with her hands. "I don't let that kind of negative thinking in."

"Right, that could get you hurt." Now Joyce turned to look at her daughter. "See, honey? You gotta fight that." To Faith, she added, "Buffy can be awfully negative sometimes."

Buffy mimed a cheer. "Workin' on it." She sighed softly and got up. "I'm getting a soda."

"Oh, I want," said Faith immediately.

Buffy forced a smile. "Of course you do." She headed to the kitchen and dug out two cans of Dr Pepper.

Joyce came in after, refilling the avocado dip. "I like her, Buffy," she said quietly.

"Join the club," said Buffy with almost no hint of irritation in her voice. "She's zesty. She's great stories. She's personable. She gets along with my watcher, my friends, my mom, and – oh look – she's now getting along with my fries."

"Buffy-"

"Plus, she was making eyes at _my_ not-boyfriend today at school," hissed Buffy.

"It's just as well you're an only child," said Joyce fondly.

The younger Summers resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I just got my life back, Mom. I'm not looking to go halfsies on it."

Joyce smiled. "Well, there are some things I'll like you to share. Like the fighting and the slaying. Two of you is safer than one, right?" She paused. "And next year you'll be going to college. Couldn't she... take over for you or something?"

"No one can take over for me, Mom. The only way anyone can take over is if the old slayer dies." Seeing Joyce's suddenly pale face, Buffy realized that she had never told her mother about the encounter with the Master.

Joyce was gripping the counter very tightly. "That means... you died? When? How?"

"It's over, I mean, I'm not dead, right? It was only... I only died a little. Two minutes, maybe?" Buffy hugged her mother. "I'm okay."

"It's not okay. It's not okay that you died, Buffy," said Joyce. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "I hate this. I hate your life."

Stung, Buffy grabbed the drinks. "Sorry about that."

"I know you didn't choose this, it chose you, and I hate that it did. I've tried to be in the Slayer pep rally but... You're my daughter. I don't want you to die," explained Joyce quietly.

The blonde Slayer smiled weakly. "I know. Anyway, now it's two of us. It's gotta be safer, right?"

Joyce looked a little more reassured. Then she hugged Buffy once more before the two Summers women returned to the dining table to feed the hungry second slayer.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Gin left the mansion alone. He was adept enough to avoid the hot spots, knowing that the Slayer – Slayers, plural, Taishou had caught him up with the latest developments – would be patrolling them. Instead, Gin chose the brightly lit places. The Coffee Spot was almost packed with adults, the soft murmur of conversation a welcome difference from the noisy Bronze that Kira had dragged him to a couple of times. The store was playing a new album from some new band; Gin sighed and tried to muffle his hearing. Every generation came up with more and more horrendous music, he thought uncharitably. Then again, he was thankful he would never have to sit through the sixties again. Every other human bloodbag had been tainted with some hallucinogen, and he had to spend hours waiting for the drugs to wear out of his system.

As he sat in a corner seat, he cast his gaze over the crowd. Most were here with friends. A sweet-looking girl, her lips colored a beautiful coral, caught his eye and smiled prettily, but her companion had bristled and led her away after glaring at Gin.

The vampire didn't mind. He was bored, feeling cooped up in the mansion. He had always been the one who started the hunt – not a hunt, a _chase_ – the feeling of tracking something down, getting to know the mind of his prey and then, then slowly coaxing it to come closer and offer itself up as a sacrifice. Kira had been one such offering, very delicious, though Gin had had to brutally murder the village to break Kira's mind. Another was Nanao, though the wooing had been done by Aizen and Gin had observed the process, an apprentice learning at the feet of the master.

A burst of delighted laughter caught Gin's attention. At the counter were two men, one taller than the other, but both striking in their appearance. The shorter one was gesturing and he had a wonderfully open expression of happiness. His lips were temptingly red, and his floppy brown hair kept falling into his eyes – such blue eyes, Gin marveled appreciatively – which he swept aside with casual excitement. The other man was tanned, his hair almost reddish, and the faint smile on his lips made him appear almost detached from the scene. If not for the way he leaned forward and the persistent eye contact with the shorter male, Gin would have thought that the taller man was uninterested.

The vampire sipped his espresso with anticipation curling at the base of his spine. Two of them... which one?

As if noticing his scrutiny, the shorter one turned and stared directly at the vampire. The taller one followed the intense blue gaze and his eyes, though not as vividly colored, held an intensity that was as ferocious as it was fathomless.

Gin tipped his cup and drained it.

Before he could approach the two, he suddenly heard – no, _felt_ a voice in his head.

_Come near us and I will make you think you're a duckling. Or a kitten._

Gin halted. He peered curiously at the two. The floppy-haired man tapped his temple with a faint, cold smile.

_We're just passing through. I don't want a fight, _and the use of the pronoun was deliberate, seeing how the taller man's lips curled contemptuously, _and I do not wish to engage in any conflict with the vampires yet._

_Yet? _Gin let the thought sit at the front of his mind. This was the second true telepath he had ever met personally, the first being in the sixties, and he had enjoyed a brief liaison with that one before killing him. Who would have thought a dying scream sounded much better in the head?

That unbidden memory made the telepath scowl and he exchanged a glance with the taller man. Gin shrugged and walked out of the store. He would need to get to a more crowded place where it was difficult to locate him, because if he had not misread the look, the telepath would now hunt him down.

_No we're not. At least, not yet. There's business to take care of. We might come back in the future... Ichimaru Gin._

Gin chuckled. _You should give me a name. It's only polite._

_And warn you ahead of time? I think not. But I can give you a sample of what's in store._

A sudden blast of pain echoed through Gin's skull and he winced, forcing himself to stay in human face. He had to get to the mall and lose himself in the gaggle of humanity.

Thankfully there were no more mental attacks after he left Main Street, though how much of it was due to the telepath's range or his statement that they really were passing through.

He would need to notify Stark. Wolfram and Hart might just want to keep their own telepaths on the watch out for this pair. And maybe he and Aizen might want to employ a telepath of their own should they really come back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Didn't we already do this street?" complained Faith, her boots thudding with more force than necessary.

Buffy ignored the whine. "Funny thing about vamps. They sometimes go where you've already gone. So inconsiderate of them."

"Whatever," said Faith. "You're the one who's been doing this the longest."

Buffy did not respond.

Faith muttered, "Maybe _too_ long."

Now that could not go unchallenged. Buffy stopped in her tracks and glared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Faith gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"You got a problem?" demanded the blonde Slayer. She knew this was stupid, she knew she was escalating, and she knew she didn't care.

Faith rose to the occasion with a matching, scathing glare. "I'm five by five, B. Living entirely  
>large and wondering 'bout your problem."<p>

"I'm perfectly fine. Maybe I don't wrestle with alligators or sleep in the nude-"

"-and maybe you oughta start." Faith folded her arms. "Something in your bottle needs uncorking. Is it this Angel thing?"

Buffy felt anger blossom with rapid speed. "What do you know about him?"

"Only what your friends told me. Big love, big loss, you oughta deal and move on but you're not."

Pushed to the limit of her temper, Buffy stepped up and got in Faith's face. "How about you never mentioning Angel ever again? Or anything else in my life, which, by the way, is my life."

Faith's mocking sneer added fuel to the flames. "What are you getting so strung out for, B.?"

"Why are your lips still moving, F.?" Buffy countered.

"Is that a threat?" asked the brunette Slayer. "You think you can take me?"

"Yeah." Buffy suddenly caught movement in her peripheral vision. "I just hope they can't."

The four vampires advanced on the two girls and suddenly the Slayers swung into action. Pushing Faith out of the way, Buffy staked the first one to rush them.

Though Buffy knew that Faith was likely more than able to hold her own, she spared an occasional glance at her fellow Slayer. Vampire number two and three were fighting her together, and it was obvious they had done this plenty of times before. She punched one of them, sidestepped the other's onslaught, and then spun into a high kick. However her foot was caught and she was sent hurtling towards a pile of crates set against the wall. The collision caused Buffy's vision to flicker briefly; the momentary lull meant that one of the vampires now had her in a death grip, his clawed hands closed about her neck. Only her desperate clutch at his fingers stopped him from breaking her spine, and when her foot lashed out he shouted and dropped her. Her reprieve was too short though as the other vampire clotheslined her and sent her sprawling again. When she flipped to her feet she jammed a stake into his heart. However, before she could turn and attack the other, she was knocked down.

"Faith, some help!" she shouted, not certain where the other girl had landed in her own fight. She could hear Faith shouting though.

"...you can't touch me!" screamed Faith. "You can't touch me!"

"Faith!" yelled Buffy. She could feel the vampire's weight bearing down.

His breath was rank. "For Kakistos we live. For Kakistos you die."

Twisting her torso Buffy managed to dislodge the bloodsucker, but he was too quick and punched her in the side of her face, causing her to stagger backwards. Her hands closed around another splintered segment of the crates earlier and she thrust the weapon forward blindly, hoping it would connect. It did: instinct had kicked in and she picked up the makeshift stake, hating that she had to pull splinters out of her palm later that night.

Faith was still pummeling the vampire to a bloody pulp. Buffy yanked the Slayer off and put the bloodsucker out of its misery. Then she rounded on Faith.

"What is your problem?" she shouted.

Faith tugged her jacket on properly. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you living large on the great undead here." Buffy forced herself to remain calm. Shouting would not help.

"Gee, if doing violence to vampires upsets you, I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong line of work," said Faith with heavy sarcasm coloring her tone.

Buffy snorted. "Or maybe you like it just a little too much."

"I was getting the job done," retorted the dark-haired girl.

"The job is to slay demons. Not mash them into sloppy joes while their friends are cornering me," Buffy stated fiercely.

Faith looked affronted and sneered, "I thought you could handle yourself."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"She's off her rocker," said Buffy as she walked with Giles to the library after school. "She completely lost control."

"Well, Buffy, you must realize that you and Faith have very different temperaments. She's more... unorthodox-"

"And I'm the more sane? Giles, she's not playing with a full deck. She has no deck. She has a three." Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Are you even listening to me?"

Giles set down his letters and studied Buffy for a few seconds. "You said yourself she killed one of  
>them. She's a plucky fighter who got a little carried away. Which is natural: she's focused on Slaying, she doesn't have a whole other life here like you-"<p>

"-she doesn't need one, she's got mine-"

"-and I think you're being a little-"

"-no, I'm being a lot. I get that. But I'm telling you, she nearly got us both killed," said Buffy. Her stance softened slightly. "She needs help."

Giles cleared his throat. "I'll see if I can get word to her watcher at the retreat. Eight hours later, they're probably enjoying a nightcap... I wonder if they still kayak. I was an excellent kayaker in my day, do they even consider that...?"

Buffy glared.

Chastened, Giles rubbed the side of his nose. "Sorry. Now these vampires that attacked you, did you notice any details that might help me trace their lineage: modern or ancient dress, amulets, cultish tattoos...?"

The Slayer frowned. "No tats, crappy dressers, oh, the one who nearly bit me said something about... kissing toast, he lived for kissing toast."

The Watcher tensed. "You mean Kakistos?"

Buffy muttered, "Or, it could have been taquitos, maybe he lived for taquitos... what'd you say?"

"Kakistos."

Off the librarian's look, Buffy asked, "Is that bad?"

"Yes." Giles headed into the metal cage and pulled out a few volumes before he located the one he wanted. He flipped the pages as he explained, "The name means the worst of the worst. It's also the name of a vampire, so old his hands and feet are cloven. He must be here for some reason."

"This guy shows up when, two days ago?" Buffy tilted her head. "Right around the time my bestest new little sister makes the scene."

"You think Faith is connected to Kakistos somehow?" asked Giles, his finger hovering over an entry in the book.

"There's two things I do not believe in," said Buffy. "Coincidence and leprechauns."

Giles risked a small smile. "Buffy, it's entirely possible they happened by chance to arrive simultaneously."

The Slayer shrugged. "Okay, but I'm right about leprechauns, right?"

"As far as I know."

"Good." The blonde settled her bag on her shoulders. "Get England on the phone. I'm gonna talk to Faith. See if Kakistos rings a bell. Or an alarm."

Ichigo chose that moment to enter the library. "What rings an alarm?"

Buffy smiled at the redhead. "Wanna take a walk with me?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Where to?"

"The other side of town from the good side of town." Buffy hoped that the boy would come along. It would ease the tension between her and Faith.

Unfortunately Ichigo shook his head. "I'm supposed to meet Willow here. She booked my assistance for getting a present for Oz."

"Oz's birthday is coming up?"

"No, some anniversary thing. You know how she is." Ichigo grinned.

Buffy smiled and waved goodbye.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Outside the library she hurried to the back door. Just as she turned the corner she bumped into the person she wished she could see a lot more often. "Scott, hey."

"Buffy," said Scott shyly. "I uh, how are you?"

"I'm good, I'm... I'm good." Buffy wished desperately she could loiter a little longer. Her hesitation must have come across to Scott.

He smiled nervously and pulled out a small box. "Uh, I know, you have to be going somewhere. Think of this as my last-ditch attempt. I realize one more will qualify as stalking." He took a deep breath. "I've given a lot of thought, some might say too much thought, to how I might be a part of your life. It begins with conversation, we all know this. Maybe over a cup of coffee, maybe at the Buster Keaton festival - playing on State Street all this weekend..."

There was no hiding the hopeful glimmer in his limpid eyes. Buffy hesitated again and then smiled shyly.

"Looking back now I see I haven't really been fair to... Buster Keaton." Scott's face lit up when Buffy went on, "I like what I've seen of him so far; I think it's time to see a little more."

Scott exhaled. "Keaton is key." Then he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small white box. "I got you a little present, guy in a retro shop said it represents friendship - that's something I'd  
>very much like to have with you."<p>

Surprised and touched, Buffy took the box and opened it.

A Claddagh ring gleamed in the late afternoon sun.

The blonde felt time freeze about her. Then she dropped the item and backed away. "I-I can't. I can't it's... I can't. I'm sorry."

A visibly disappointed Scott bent and retrieved the ring. "It's okay. No big deal, I get it."

As the slender boy strode off Ichigo hurried up. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Hi. I'm – I'm fine. What is it?"

"Giles called England. The retreat." Ichigo bit his lips. "Faith's watcher is dead."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Once Giles figured out that Faith had lied about her Watcher, it was not difficult to put two and two together: Faith had run to Sunnydale in hopes of shaking off Kakistos.

"I'm gonna go get her here, Giles," said Buffy. "Sun's almost down. What if they find her before I do?"

"Go, Buffy," Ichigo urged. Willow had come by earlier and taken a raincheck – Oz wanted her company at a gig out of town, and the girl had happily agreed to tag along as an Oz-only groupie.

"Yes, I imagine that it won't be difficult for a vampire of Kakistos' resources to locate her. Do stay safe while coming over. I fear they will swarm the streets to find her." Giles nodded as Buffy rushed off.

Ichigo stood up, ready to leave, when Giles said, "Uh, Ichigo, I would like you to stay. There are some people I want you to meet."

"Who?"

As if on cue, the library doors swung open and two men entered. They looked like they were in their mid-twenties, or maybe early thirties: one was intimidatingly intense, the way his eyes scanned the surrounds seeking out routes and weapons; the other seemed warm and friendly, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling and his thick brown hair barely brushed in some semblance of order. Giles turned around and they stopped beside the counter.

"Rupert Giles, this is an _abysmal_ collection you have here," the blue-eyed man announced with a generous sweep of his arms. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Giles twitched a smile. "This is a school library, my friend, and I do not intend to place all my worldly wealth here where grubby handed students can get at them."

The two of them shook hands and then the shorter man tugged Giles into a hug. He grinned and looked at the Watcher from head to toe. "Well, I must say the California sun is doing wonders for you, Rupert. You seem much healthier than the last time we met. Do you believe I have had no tea? All over this town they only have horrible coffee, which does nothing for my system and makes me jittery and tense."

"Y-yes, of course. Ichigo, could you-?" Giles motioned for the Japanese boy to join them. "Ichigo, this is my old friend from Oxford-"

"Call me Charles." The man shook Ichigo's hand with fervor, and somehow the teenager did not feel affronted by the familiarity of the smile nor the curious warmth in those eyes. "And that is my colleague, Max. Max, this is Rupert, I've spoken of him along the way."

"Pleasure, Rupert, Ichigo," said Max, though he made no move to shake Ichigo's hands. The teenager felt that the unfriendliness was not limited to Ichigo alone.

Charles appeared not to have noticed anything. "So. Shall we sit?"

They took seats around the wooden table, Max close to Charles, opposite Giles and Ichigo, and Ichigo felt nervous under the piercing gray-green regard the taller man leveled at him.

"I came as soon as I got your call, Rupert," Charles said. "I gather this young man is the one?"

"Yes," said Giles softly. He turned to the teenager. "I asked Charles to come over because he is one of the most powerful telepaths in the world."

"You want him to read my mind," Ichigo stated.

"I need him to verify what you told me was true. It could have been an elaborate lie constructed by-"

"Why are there two of you in that beautiful head of yours?" interrupted Charles. The floppy-haired man frowned. "And the other one is not very pleasant at all."

Ichigo froze. "You're already reading me?"

"No," said Max, his voice a low rumble. "He doesn't read unless you agree to it."

"I'm just hearing the other you screaming at me right now. I can't avoid hearing it," Charles apologized.

Ichigo leaned down further in his chair. "Umm... this is quite uncomfortable for me."

Charles tilted his head quizzically. "You intend to have another mind sharing your body?"

"No."

The man broke into another of those sunny smiles. "Then let me help you."

Ichigo furrowed his brow. "I-I'm not sure. How would you go about... that?"

"First I sieve out what is yours and what is his," said Charles casually, "before I construct a block between the two, and slowly force out the alien mind and casting it into the void."

"LIKE HELL I'll LET YOU!"

Max was the only one who kept his composure, his arm instinctively flung across Charles as the other man scrambled up and away. Giles had leaped up and ducked towards the book cage.

Ichigo was shaking, his fingertips turning white. What was more terrifying was the mad toothy grimace and the eyes – black and gold eyes – and just as it had exploded suddenly Ichigo seemed to wrest control and switched back into himself.

"Okay, what just happened?" the boy asked, shaken and pale.

Charles' good humor seemed to have disappeared. "You have to exorcise him now. He's been biding his time and if he was able to break free like just now with no warning..."

The doors slammed open and a blond man stormed into the library. "I felt him. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Urahara," said Giles. "Ichigo needs help."

"I will decide that," snarled Urahara. He held out a hand. "Ichigo, we should go home."

There was a scraping sound as Max rose from his chair. "Sir, if you take him home, who is going to help him?"

"I will."

"You've been suppressing the demon," said Max with a quiet, intense stare. "But suppression only leads to a fiercer rebound. The demon wants to break free and your... student will not be able to withstand him for long."

Urahara gaped at the two men. Charles nodded, his demeanor sincere. "I can help," said Charles. "I can help Ichigo find his balance."

Then Ichigo tugged his hand away from Urahara. "Let him try, please."

Urahara looked at his orange-haired ward. "You certain?"

"Yes." Ichigo licked his lips. "I have to deal with Shirosaki eventually. If he says he can help, then I want to try."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

She had to wait for almost five minutes outside the door before the door opened. Faith was in a foul mood apparently, and there was a faint stench of cigarettes. Odd, that; Faith didn't smoke. Then Buffy caught sight of the trash bin and blushed.

"What is it?" Faith asked in a bored tone.

Buffy's attention snapped back to the present. "Does the name Kakistos ring a bell?"

The look on the dark-haired girl's face indicated that it rang more than a bell; it rang a whole freaking town-wide siren. "What do you know of Kakistos?" she asked coldly.

"That he's here."

Now that made Faith worried. She started grabbing clothes and and bag, stuffing everything inside.

"So we're not happy to see old friends," Buffy went on, pushing deliberately. "What did he do to you?"

"It's what I did to him," said Faith, and if she had snapped it would have been better. Her confidence had suddenly disappeared and Buffy saw, with sudden shock, how terrified Faith was.

"What would that be?" Buffy pressed. When the other girl didn't answer, she said, "You came here for a reason, Faith, I can help-"

Faith did snap now. "You can mind your own business. I'm the one can handle this."

"Yeah, you're a real badass when it comes to packing. What'd you say about my problem, gotta deal and move on?"

Faith picked up her bag and turned to face Buffy. Her gaze was steel hard.

Buffy was unmoved. "Here we have the moving on part, I get that – and dealing, that's something you just gonna dump on my doorstep?"

"You don't know me, you don't know what I've been through." The brunette shoved past Buffy and headed for the door. "I'll take care of it."

"Like you took care of your watcher?"

That was a low blow and Buffy knew it. The sudden stillness of the other Slayer showed that it had hit hard too.

She did not turn around but said, "They don't have a word for what they did to her."

The knocking on the door startled them both. Faith grumbled under her breath and peered out the peephole. "What now?"

Buffy suddenly sensed something amiss and made to stop her, but Faith had already opened the door.

"Hello Faith," said the vampire right outside.

Faith screamed. Buffy slammed the door shut and dragged the other Slayer with her. "Scream later, escape now," she suggested, and pulled Faith behind her as they clambered out the back window.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

They had no idea where they were running to. Buffy and Faith kept meeting with vampires, left and right, and with encounter they would take down one or two and move on again, and the group of bloodsuckers behind them got bigger and bigger. Eventually it was either the ocean or the abandoned warehouse on the left, and Buffy kicked in a boarded entryway before climbing into it.

The space was empty and quiet, though some lights were switched on. The Slayers paused and heard the running feet thunder away and fade out.

"It's okay, I think we shook them," said Buffy. "Faith, what happened?"

"I..." Faith was having difficulty breathing, speaking. It was more than the run that winded her. "I... I was in, I was in Missouri. I saw, I saw what he did to my Watcher, and what he was going to do to me, and I ran, I ran and left her..."

"Hey." Buffy shook Faith by her arm. "First rule of slaying: don't die. You did the right thing, you didn't die." Then, having grabbed Faith's attention, she said, "Now do the math. One of him, two of us..."

"No," gasped Faith. "No, no, no no no... this is his place. This is his place, this is a trap!"

Buffy looked about her wildly. Then she saw it: a pile of bodies, maybe six or ten, she couldn't tell. "We were driven here," Buffy said, her mouth dry and sick.

The door burst open, admitting five vampires including the fearsome Kakistos and from behind, where the slayers had entered earlier, three vampires climbed in. Buffy glanced at Faith, whose horrified gaze was locked on Kakistos.

They were surrounded.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Charles leaned back into the chair and Max laid a hand on his left shoulder. Charles patted it absently. "It's alright, darling. I'm fine." Then, having caught his own use of the endearment, Charles flushed and stammered, "I've isolated the memories. And I'm truly sorry for what you have had to endure, Ichigo. You are a remarkable young man."

"Thank you." Ichigo squirmed. It had felt incredibly intrusive, having had someone root around in his brain and offering an occasional apology or comment. Charles really had no concept of personal space, Ichigo realized, because when the older man came to the memory of the night Ichigo lost his virginity, Charles had shared happily how _he_ had felt when he first had sex. But the fact that Charles knew he was homosexual seemed to make the job slightly easier and Charles managed to complete his task in less than an hour.

Urahara had not sat down. His gray-green eyes looked from one to the other. "What about the exorcism?"

"We'll need to keep him bound," said Charles cheerfully. "Preferably with metal."

"Shirosaki is too strong, and chains won't hold him," said Urahara.

Max smiled faintly. "That's because chains have weak links."

"So what do you recommend? Metal cuffs that have no weak points whatsoever? There is always a join somewhere that is a weak point!" countered the physics teacher hotly.

The tall man regarded Ichigo for a moment and then he smiled. "Not for me."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Faith backed away slowly as Kakistos advanced on her. Buffy grabbed a steel bar and shoved it in Faith's hands.

"Don't die," she commanded. Whipping out a stake, Buffy tried to get to Kakistos, but he swatted her aside and she fell to the floor. Then she was rushed by the lesser minions.

Faith looked at the bar in her hands, then up at Kakistos. She tried to swing it, but Kakistos stopped it and punched her right through a support beam.

Buffy, on her back on the floor, thrust her stake forward as a vampire dove for her. That vampire died with little fuss, and after flipping to her feet Buffy makes short work of a couple more who appeared to have been newly turned, so uncoordinated and rough their attacks.

Faith, on the other hand, was not doing well. Her crawl back to a standing position was slow and ungainly, and Kakistos kicked her in the ribs, landing her down again.

"Faith!" yelled Buffy. She was about to go for Kakistos when a snazzily-dressed vampire grabbed her from behind.

"I believe this dance is mine," he smirked.

She slammed him back against the wall, bent forward and flipped him over onto his back, whipped out her stake. Buffy bared her teeth in mockery of the vampface. "The music stopped."

He rolled away just as the stake came down. As he got into another fighting stance, he said, "But the beat goes on. Gimmie whatchya got."

She approaches and they trade punches, enough for Buffy to know they were a good match. Her attention wavered between her own fight and Faith's battle though, and when she looked over for a second she saw Kakistos towering over Faith.

The old vampire had dragged Faith to her feet by her hair. She was wide-eyed with terror now.

The momentary distraction proved costly for Buffy as another vampire grabbed Buffy from behind. As the black vampire came towards her, Buff head-butted the one holding her arms behind her and then kicked out, smashing a heel in the black vampire's face. Then she staked the one which had imprisoned her briefly and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Faith was down.

Buffy dashed over, intent on stopping Kakistos, and started raining all her kicks and blows on him. Her attacks were easily parried – Kakistos was much bulkier and stronger, and did not hesitate to use his size against her – but Buffy kept going, using her speed and agility as her weapons.

Mr Trick in the shadows rolled his shoulders and heard them creak. "Spirited girl. We don't do something, she just might kill him."

The vampire beside him moved to assist, but Trick stopped her. "I don't think I have a problem with that. Incense, candles, missing the Bulls games 'cause he's too cheap to pop for cable - who's had enough here?"

The vampire looked at him, and the one in front of them did the same. They both raised their hands tentatively and then followed Trick out the gaping hole in the back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Giles and Urahara watched in awe and trepidation as Max manipulated the steel of the book cage into long thick snakes of metal and they wrapped about Ichigo. To facilitate the process, Urahara had put Ichigo into a trance, but that also meant that Shirosaki would be able to surface at any moment.

Charles had taken a seat beside Max, his blue eyes fixed on the teen's face. When the steel cocooned Ichigo, leaving only his head exposed, Max set the teenager down.

"What are you?" murmured Urahara, shocked at the ease at which Max had twisted and shaped the metal.

Max pretended he hadn't heard the comment. "All yours, _liebling_."

"Charles, you are sure what to do, right?" asked Giles once again.

Charles nodded, his resolute manner assuring even Urahara, who had his spell to force Shirosaki under ready, just in case. Advancing cautiously, Charles touched Ichigo's temple and closed his eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Avoiding the punch, Buffy came up with a stake, ducked a second giant swing from Kakistos and buried the stake deep and true into his chest.

Nothing happened.

Shocked, Buffy pounded on the stake, trying to sink it deeper. Still nothing happened, and Kakistos started laughing.

"Guess you need a bigger stake, slayer," he hissed.

Suddenly a broken support beam pushed out through his chest. There was a second of shock, before Kakistos crumpled into nothing. Behind, Faith was still gripping the broken support beam as a lance.

The two stood there, breathing hard, and looked around. There was no one else other than the dead bodies. Then they looked at each other.  
>"You hungry?" asked Buffy.<p>

Faith licked her torn lower lip. "Starved."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"It's done," said Charles, throwing his head back. His waves of brown hair were rumpled up, and perspiration had wet his shirt. "Gone. That demon is cast out into the ether – it'll be hard to get it back without the specific rituals, and I don't think anyone knows its full, real name besides you, Mr Urahara."

Giles smiled and he was glad that Urahara's relief mirrored his own. The Watcher knew he had been presumptuous in calling Charles and Max over from New York, but they were the best in this business. Once a demon spirit was cast out, it would be buried among the tens of thousands of souls in the ether, in the nothingness of limbo, and as long as Urahara didn't call it forth with its real name the demon Shirosaki would remain lost.

Max removed the steel cocoon from Ichigo and reworked it into the book cage, firming up areas which had been quite weak before. Slowly the redheaded teenager woke up and blinked.

"My head..." he murmured. "Light."

"It's all yours now," said Charles. "Oh, but I did put in a control over that shiny power of yours. You have to really want it before you get to use it. I don't want you incinerating half the demon population of the world just because you had a nightmare."

"Why not? Demons are evil," said Urahara.

Max's intense gaze locked onto Urahara's, and then he smiled like a shark. "You don't know enough of them to make that statement. Do not presume." He then extended a hand to Charles who was sitting down. "We need to leave. Darkholme would fret if we return late."

"She would, wouldn't she?" Charles accepted the help and embraced Giles once more. "It has been a mite too long since we met up for a drink, Rupert, and I hope we'll see each other again soon. Do keep in touch, please. I would love to hear more from you about your Slayer."

Giles chuckled. "You know I can't reveal that to civilians, but I will have a drink with you soon, I hope. Or if you are coming by this way again, do drop in for a chat."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ulquiorra was the one who caught the glimmer of a familiar, if faint presence and he grabbed at it. As if it recognized Ulquiorra's touch, the ephemeral presence clung to the Klaardis half-demon. There were no words exchanged, not even concepts, but somehow the presence managed to convey its joy at being free and its distress of being incorporeal. Having found Ulquiorra, it seemed to have located an anchor on the plane.

"I'll find you a body," Ulquiorra swore. His wings spread and he took off from the roof of the apartment where he had been waiting for the past few months. "Stay with me, Shirosaki. I will get you back."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy and Willow were looking at Giles in concern. The Watcher smiled and cleaned his glasses.

"The Council approved our request. Faith can stay here indefinitely; I'm to look after you both until they assign a new watcher." He put his glasses back on.

The Slayer nodded. "Good. She came through, you know. She had a lot to deal with, but she did it. Got it behind her."

"That's good to hear," Giles remarked, and began sorting out herbs and amulets.

There was a moment when Buffy tried to gather courage. Her voice was small but she was glad it didn't shake. "Angel was cured.'

"I'm sorry?"

"When I killed him," Buffy began again, not looking up at either her best friend or her watcher, "Angel was...cured. Your spell worked, Willow. Last minute. I was about to take him out and something went through him and then he was... Angel again. He didn't remember anything he'd done, he just held me, and..." Her voice faltered, just for a beat, and then she marshalled her strength, "... but it was, it was too late and I had to... I kissed him, and I told him that I loved him. And I killed him."

Silence descended. Now the blonde girl looked up and there was a calm acceptance in her expression. "I don't know if that helps with your spell or not, Giles."

The librarian's tone was exceedingly gentle. "I believe it will."

"I'm sorry," said Willow, her hands on Buffy's warm.

"It's okay. I guess I been holding onto that. It's actually kinda good to get it out." Buffy picked her books up and nodded. "I'll see you guys later."

After she had gone, Giles started putting away the spell paraphernalia. Willow raised her hand timidly.  
>"Giles? I know you don't like me playing with the mystical forces, but I really could help with the binding spell," she volunteered.<p>

"There is no spell." Giles regarded Willow for a beat, and then entered his office.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Buffy perked up when she saw Scott Hope round the corner. "Hi."

"Uh, hi," said Scott. He darted a glance about himself.

"Okay. This is a little harder than it looks, so here goes." Buffy nibbled her lips and blurted, "I'm really sorry about going mental on you... there was someone a while ago and the ring sort of confused me but... I liked what you said about friendship, I liked it a lot. Also, Buster Keaton, big fun. And I'm capable of the big fun even though there's no earthly way you could possibly know that about me lately. Wow, if I'd known I was going to go on this long I'd have brought water. So, if you were still up for the film festival - and I'd understand if you weren't - I'd pretty much love to go with you."

There was a long, pregnant pause. Scott seemed to have taken it all in, and then the next words out of his mouth made Buffy shrink a little.

"I don't know, Buffy. I'm really gonna have to think this over." He smiles sort of apologetically and walked down the corridor, but before Buffy could deflate completely and sink into the ground, Scott turned on his heel and came back. "I've thought. I'd love to go with you to the Buster Keaton. When do you want to go?"

Buffy beamed. "I've got one thing I need to do, and then I'm free."

"Good," said Scott happily.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Ichigo looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned. He didn't look any different. But he felt different, inside, as if there was a terrible load lifted from his shoulders and a different terrible load was dropped on him.

He recognized it as 'guilt'.

He would now have to deal with all the deaths he had inadvertently caused, and it was not going to be easy. Still, it was something to do: if he ever wanted to seal the Hellmouth, he would need to find a way to reactivate his powers.

He had a feeling Buffy wouldn't want him to do it. After all, if he sealed the Hellmouth, then the town would collapse. People would assuredly die along with him, both humans and non-humans. And yet...

"I was born for this," he whispered to himself. His reflection showed only his brown eyes staring back at him. "I was born for this."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The ring that Buffy had left on the floor of the mansion started vibrating, as if it were a seed on a drum. A beam of light fell on it and the ring began to smoke, before a body dropped down and landed harshly right atop the little accessory. The person, naked and shivering and cold and shaking, tried to push himself off the ground.

His hands flattened against the cold tile, and his dark eyes scanned the surrounds. Too many smells, too familiar, and he had no idea where – or what, or who – he was.

Outside, a slim figure slunk away. He had sensed the gathering energy and trailed the Slayer here. And now _this_.

Quincy Archer could not help the satisfied smirk that crept on his face. It would be worth his while to stay in Sunnydale.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

**A/N: I'm sorry, I just had to include that telepath bit. You win Internet Points for knowing who they were before getting to the A/N.**

**I rewatched XMFC recently and therefore was touched by the Cherik brotherhood/romance (yes, it's there) and bam! I may or may not dive into that fandom and write an AU where they hunt demons and locate mutants, but it's always cool to include cameos.**


End file.
